The Regeneration Experiment
by Weimlady
Summary: The Tenth Doctor brings his new companion, Martha Jones, to meet Sarah Jane Smith. Sequel to my previous stories, Silver & Gold, and Saving Horse Feathers. Sarah is between Runaway Bride and Smith & Jones, the Doc & Martha between 42 and Human Nature.
1. Chapter 1

Time.

Sarah Jane Smith had travelled in it. She had been instrumental in mending it. She had seen it buffetting the Doctor with hurricane force once, when she discovered that "the winds of time" wasn't just a poetic fancy. You'd think, she grumbled to herself, being friends with a Time Lord would give you some sort of special dispensation when it came to time. But no.

It still got away from her.

"Eveline?" she said into her mobile as she climbed down the steps and headed toward her Prius. "Is Dora in?" She frowned as she unlocked the car door and opened it, switching the phone from one ear to the other. "I'm supposed to be there in fifteen. Running a bit late. Can you put me into her voice mail? Thanks." She slid behind the wheel, closed the door and settled her handbag on the passenger seat while she waited for the beep. "Dora? Sarah Jane. I'm just going to be a bit late. I know, I missed the last deadline entirely. I am so sorry and I appreciate you giving me another chance. I just had a...family emergency to deal with three weeks ago. You know how it is. Anyway...."

She stopped. She had glanced up at her living room window as she got her keys out, and saw a light flashing there. She opened the car door a crack and...yes...there it was. A whooshing, wheezing, groaning sound, music to her ears, coming from her house.

"Erm...Dora? I think I'm about to have another family emergency," she said into the phone. Then she grinned. "I'll call back when I know for sure what's up."

She disconnected, got out of the car, and ran back up the steps. She was so excited, she had trouble getting the house key into the lock, but soon had the door open and was hurrying through. Just as she was about to round the corner from the entryway to the living room, she heard an unfamiliar and very puzzled female voice.

"Doctor? You've landed us in someone's living room!"

Sarah's momentum carried her around the corner, but then she skidded to a halt. There, as she expected, was the familiar old blue police box that was, of course, about as far from being an old blue police box as anything could be. But there, as she had not expected, stood a stunningly beautiful young woman with huge dark eyes, black hair, and perfect cafe-au-lait skin.

Then the Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS, all long arms and legs and wild hair and sparkling brown eyes and big shining grin, and she forgot about the strange woman in her living room and just ran to him. He met her half way, scooped her up in his arms and spun her around twice before he put her back down.

"Sarah Jane!" he said with delight. "How long has it been?"

"Three weeks for me," she answered. "You?"

"Oh, couple of years," he said dismissively. He tugged on his earlobe with a frown. "The TARDIS seems to have a thing about you and three weeks."

"She does, doesn't she?" Sarah grinned up at him.

He shrugged. "Well. She usually has a good reason for what she does." Then he went back to smiling down into her eyes.

Sarah ran her hands down his arms and let them come to rest holding his. She drank in the sight of him for a second, then darted her eyes to the side and raised her eyebrows.

He took the hint. "Ah. Yes. Sarah Jane, I want you to meet Martha. Martha Jones, this is Sarah Jane Smith. Martha's been travelling with me for awhile now." He leaned down, gave her a pointed look and raised his eyebrows. "She's a doctor in training."

Sarah gave him a delighted smile, looked at Martha, then looked back at him and laughed.

"Is that funny?" Martha asked.

"Oh, no," Sarah said quickly. "It's wonderful. Just wonderful." She reached out a hand, then both hands, to Martha, who hesitantly offered her hand to be shaken. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Doctor Jones."

She smiled a bit bashfully. "Not Doctor yet, I'm afraid."

"Close enough," Sarah said. She looked up at the Doctor again, wrapped an arm around his waist and gave him a squeeze. "Oh, you!" She noticed Martha's small frown and answered it. "How long have you been travelling with him, Martha?""

"Hard to say," Martha answered. "We travel in time, you know." She tipped her head back a bit and fixed Sarah with a challenging look.

Sarah smiled, letting the challenge blow right by. "I know. And how many times since you've been with him has he taken your advice?"

Martha looked at the Doctor, then back at Sarah. "He does that?"

"Martha," the Doctor said warningly.

"Not often," Sarah answered.

"Sarah," he said in the same tone.

She gave him a cheeky grin, then turned back to Martha. "This time he actually did. We said he should find someone just like you to travel with. And here he's done it." She turned amazed eyes up to him. He sighed theatrically and gave her a slow blink, but then his features relaxed into a grin. "I want to hear all about how you met and what you've done and where you've been. Come on into the kitchen, I'll put the kettle on." Her eyes snapped to extra-wide. "Oh, and I have a phone call to make." She pulled her mobile out and dialed as she walked toward the kitchen, waving to them to follow her.

"Sarah," the Doctor said, following, but slowly. "I thought we'd go out to lunch."

She turned, phone to her ear, listening to both it and him. "Great. There's a new restaurant by the park I've been wanting to try."

"That's not..." he started to say, but she held up a finger.

"Dora! Hi. Sarah Jane." She gave the Doctor and Martha an apologetic look. "Yes, I'm so sorry, I know I should be there now. Just had a family emergency come up. Yes. Another one." She rolled her eyes for her guests' benefit. "Dora, you don't need to have a family to have a family emergency," she said into the phone. "Trust me. You don't." She smiled at the Doctor, reached out with her free hand and touched his shoulder, reassuring herself he was really there. "Can we reschedule? Tomorrow?" She looked up at the Doctor with a question in her eyes, and he gave her a "sure, why not?" shrug. "Late in the day would be best. Just in case. Great, thank you, see you then."

She snapped the phone shut. "Now. What's this about lunch?"

"I wanted to take you to lunch. Give you and Martha a chance to get to know each other. And Harry, if he's free."

Sarah snapped the phone back open and hit speed dial. "Harry?" she said into the phone a moment later. "Guess who's here." She paused a second, listening. "No, he's fine. Looks remarkably fit, in fact," she added, smiling at the Doctor. "Just wants to take us to lunch." She glanced at Martha. "Someone new to meet. You'll like her. Just what the doctor ordered." She paused, listening. "No, you're the doctor who ordered it this time. Remember? Yes, a doctor in training." She looked Martha up and down appraisingly. "Yes. Extremely." She listened again. "I suggested that new place by the park." The Doctor shook his head at her. "Hang on, he seems to have a different idea." She moved the phone away from her mouth and looked at the Doctor with eyebrows raised, questioning.

"I was thinking something a bit more exotic," he said, nodding toward the TARDIS.

"Oh," Sarah said. Then she felt a grin of delight spread across her face. "Oh," she said again, a much happier and more excited 'oh' this time. She moved the phone back up. "Harry? He really wants to take us out to lunch." She put a strong emphasis on the 'out'. Then she listened. She shot an amused glance at the Doctor and her lips curled as she listened some more. "Harry." Then she listened some more. "Harry." Emphatically this time. "It's just lunch. Come on. When's the last time you had some parboiled zagblots?" She listened some more, grinning into the phone. "Well, you liked that broasted whatchamathingy we had on Torpuna. Remember? The one with all the legs?" Another pause. "Well, that's hardly fair. Skaro was in the middle of a war." Another pause. "Fine, I'll bring you a doggy bag." More listening, this time with her face growing serious. "Harry. It's just lunch. Really. You won't need to bring in the post or water the plants. But I appreciate the offer." Another pause, then she moved the phone away from her mouth again. "He says thanks but he'll take a rain check."

"Figured that," the Doctor muttered.

Sarah grinned at him, then spoke into the phone again. "He says fine. Gotta go, spoilsport. Have fun at your boring old desk in your boring old office. I'll call when I get back." She looked up at the Doctor, suddenly serious, then turned away. "Me too," she said quietly into the phone, then disconnected.

"Hasn't quite recovered from the last trip, then?" the Doctor said wryly.

Sarah softened her words with a smile. "He's just a little worried about the idea of going missing again for an extended period." The Doctor winced and Sarah hurried to reassure him. "Don't worry about it. He explained it all away."

"Just doesn't want to have to do it again," the Doctor said.

"Well," Sarah said. She looked into his eyes and then chuckled. After a second, so did he.

"Alright, then," he said. "It's just the three of us. _Avanti_! I'm starving." And he turned and, draping one arm over Martha's shoulders, and the other over Sarah's, shepherded them into the TARDIS.

When they stepped out of the TARDIS, Sarah found herself on an alien planet for the first time in three decades. She turned slowly through three hundred and sixty degrees, taking it all in--the pink sky with the purple clouds, the gleaming buildings, the tang of alien air, the skycars jetting above her, the people, people not just of a variety of races and colors, but a variety of species, who mixed and mingled on the slidewalk before her. Before the grin could even begin to leave her face, the Doctor had taken her hand and Martha's and they had all three stepped onto the slidewalk.

They stepped off again in a minute and entered one of the softly glittering buildings. The Doctor led them to a podium where something--Sarah wasn't sure what--waited for them. She exchanged a glance with Martha and saw that the younger woman was just as baffled as she was.

"Step in," the Doctor said encouragingly.

"Step into what?"

"The pod," he answered, and proceeded to step up into nothing and have a seat.

"Ooo-kaaaay," Sarah said. She took his extended hand, raised her foot, stepped on nothing, and climbed up into nothing. She seated herself gingerly on nothing, prepared to stand back up instantly if the Doctor said there was no seat there, but he just nodded and then turned to help Martha up into the pod. As soon as she was comfortably seated on nothing, the pod floated off to an unoccupied corner of the restaurant.

"This is different," Martha said with a grin and a bit of a nervous giggle.

"Oh good," Sarah said. "I thought maybe you were a regular here." She looked around and saw other diners, of a variety of species, sizes, colors and number and nature of appendages, floating gently around the interior space, looking much like they were ensconced in invisible bubbles.

"LIke it?" the Doctor grinned.

"I love it," Sarah said. She blew out a breath. "And to think. There was a time when I took all this for granted. 'Ho hum, another alien planet'," she said, gently mocking her younger self.

"I don't think you ever got quite that blase," the Doctor said, looking at her fondly. "Maybe a little less wide-eyed is all."

"When did you travel with the Doctor?" Martha asked.

"Oh. A lifetime ago," Sarah answered. "Probably before you were born."

"Can we order before we talk?" the Doctor interrupted.

"Of course," Sarah said. She looked around the nothingness that surrounded them. "Are there menus?"

"No. I'll be ordering for you," the Doctor said.

Martha and Sarah Jane exchanged glances, and Sarah Jane was glad to see they were on the same page with this one. "Bit old fashioned of you, don't you think?" she asked with some asperity.

He tucked his chin in and gave her a look out of the tops of his eyes. "I'm the only telepath in the pod. I'm the only one who can order."

"Oh." Sarah and Martha exchanged a shamefaced look and then they both laughed. Sarah glanced around the room again and noticed this time that none of the other diners were speaking. "Are we going to disturb everyone if we talk?" she asked, as quietly as she could.

The Doctor smiled reassuringly at her. "No. They're very tolerant of off-worlders here."

"Where is here, anyway?" Martha asked.

"Metebelis 5," the Doctor answered.

Sarah's eyebrows flew up. "Metebelis? But that's where...." She trailed off, remembering the condition he was in when he returned from Metebelis 3 after going missing for weeks in the void, too sick with radiation poisoning to find his way back to UNIT HQ. The TARDIS had brought him back, finally, just in time for her to witness the miracle of a Time Lord regenerating.

The Doctor shook his head. "That was Metebelis 3. This is Metebelis 5." He gave her a dire look and shuddered. "I haven't been back to Metebelis 3 since..." He didn't finish the sentence, just looked at her, the painful memory clear in his eyes.

No one spoke for a long moment, until Sarah became aware of Martha, looking back and forth between them with a baffled air. She turned to the younger woman. "I'm sorry," she said. "Didn't mean to bring up ancient history."

Martha laughed weakly. "You two obviously go back." Her brown eyes were guarded as she looked at Sarah, then filled with liquid longing when she turned them on the Doctor.

And Sarah knew.

She turned briskly to the Doctor. "Why don't you go ahead and order. We probably wouldn't know anything that was on the menu even if you tried to describe it to us."

The Doctor closed his eyes for a moment, and almost immediately four plates whizzed into their pod. They looked like frisbees, upside-down and packed with food. One large one landed in the center of the nothingness that lay in front of them, while the three smaller ones skidded to a halt, one in front of each of them.

The Doctor reached out with a long arm, lifted the plate from the center of the table, and offered it to Sarah. "Hors d'oeuvre?" he asked politely.

Sarah looked down at the plate, then up at him. "They're wiggling," she said with a snort of laughter.

"That's good. Means they're fresh," he said. Sarah helped herself to one, and the Doctor passed the plate to Martha.

She stared at them in horror. "They're alive."

"Well," he said, wrinkling his nose. "So are chips. And you eat them."

She stared at him. "Chips are not alive."

He compressed his lips and looked at her. "If you planted the potato instead of chopping it up and frying it, it would grow."

She looked at him, then at the wiggling hors d'oeuvres. "But a potato is a plant."

"So's this," the Doctor said, popping one into his mouth and chewing.

"Plants don't wiggle," Martha said.

"Yes they do," Sarah said. When Martha looked at her, she elaborated. "Phototropism. Plants move in response to light. Bit more slowly than this on Earth, but still..." She had been examining the bit of wiggling food she had taken. It was a grass-green color, cylindrical, and looked as if it had tubules running the length of it. She popped it into her mouth, swallowed, and giggled. "Tickles," she said when they looked at her, Martha's eyes appalled, the Doctor's amused.

"Sarah. You're supposed to chew them," the Doctor chided. "You don't get the flavor if you swallow them whole."

"Yes, but they don't tickle on the way down if you chew them," she said, helping herself to another. This time she chewed it, thoughtfully, then looked at the Doctor. "You're right. Much better." Then she grinned mischievously. "But less fun."

Martha looked from one to the other of them, then hesitantly reached out and took one of the hors d'oeuvres. "You're sure this isn't a live animal that's going to feel me biting into it?"

The Doctor nodded. "No nerve endings. No brain. Just...plant. Kind of like alien celery." He looked thoughtful. "Wonder if it would work like celery?"

Sarah reminded herself to ask him later what he meant by celery working, but she was too busy watching Martha and eating to worry about it at the moment. Martha had delicately placed the chunk of wiggling alien celery in her mouth, then jumped and looked at them, wide-eyed.

"Chew," the Doctor encouraged her.

"Or just swallow it," Sarah said.

Martha opted to chew. Her face went through some remarkable contortions, then relaxed into a "meh" look. "Not bad," she said.

"Try one my way," Sarah encouraged her.

"Wait," the Doctor said, reaching into his inside coat pocket and pulling out his sonic screwdriver. "If you're going to go for the tickle, let's really get them moving." He aimed the sonic at the plate and a blue beam shot out. The bits of food started wiggling in triple time. Sarah grinned and reached for one, popped it in her mouth, swallowed and laughed happily.

"Much better!" she said, grinning at the Doctor. "You and that sonic screwdriver. Never run out of uses for it."

He flashed her a cheeky grin, flipped his screwdriver end over end in the air and caught it handily, then stashed it back in his pocket.

Martha and Sarah helped themselves to a few more hors d'oeuvres while the Doctor took a bite of the food on the plate in front of him. Sarah turned to ask him what the three main dishes were, but the words froze on her lips when she saw him.

His eyes were bugged out so far that the whites showed clearly all around the irises. His face was bright red, shading to purple in spots, freckles standing out in sharp relief. His mouth was hanging open and he didn't seem to be breathing.

Martha looked up at him just then, too. "Oh my God. He's choking." He shook his head, but she didn't notice as she tried to leap to her feet to get behind him and administer a Heimlich. Unfortunately, Sarah thought as she watched, leaping to your feet in a pod full of invisible structures doesn't always give the intended results.

"Martha. I don't think he can choke," Sarah said, reaching out and trying to calm the girl.

"What do you mean? Of course he can choke."

Sarah shook her head. "He has a respiratory bypass system." She addressed the Doctor directly. "You're not choking, are you?"

He shook his head forcefully as beads of sweat popped out on his forehead.

"Then what's wrong? What do you need us to do?"

He shook his head again, then held up a long index finger and closed his eyes.

"Phwoo," he finally said with a huff of air. "That. Was. Amazing." He reached into his top pocket, pulled out a handkerchief, and mopped his face.

Sarah and Martha exchanged glances, then looked back at him. "You're okay?" Sarah asked.

"Better than okay," he said. "That is far and away the best _angfwatfwa_ I have ever tasted! Had to send my compliments to the chef."

Sarah thought for a second, then twigged. "Ah. that's what the..." She closed her eyes and held up her index finger for a second as he had done. "...was about."

He nodded.

"You could have told us," Martha said.

He shook his head. "Oh no. Had to do it while I was fully experiencing the flavor so he'd know exactly what his food was doing to my taste buds." He blew out another breath of extreme appreciation.

"Well, are you going to share?" Sarah asked with mock exasperation.

He looked askance at her. "I don't know. Not sure human taste buds can handle it."

"Oh, not that again after all these years." Sarah laughed.

He grinned. "Oh alright. But don't blame me if it's too much for you." He scooped up a small sample of it, and fed it to Sarah.

She felt her eyes and face going through the same contortions she'd seen his go through, the only difference being that she put a hand up to cover her mouth rather than just letting it hang open.

The Doctor laughed. "Good?" She nodded, and felt the sweat springing out of her pores. "Want me to tell the chef?" She nodded again, and he reached over with a grin, gently placed his long fingers on the sides of her face, and closed his eyes. After a few seconds, he dropped his hands from her face and opened his eyes.

Still unable to speak, she nodded at Martha. "Martha?" asked the Doctor in response. "Want to try some?"

"What did you just do?" she asked, instead of answering him directly.

"When?" he asked.

"Just now. When you put your hands on her face."

The Doctor looked at Sarah, who was now waving her hand in front of her mouth. "Sent her compliments to the chef.

"But...it was like what you did in Bedlam. To that man."

The Doctor thought a second, then nodded. "It was. More or less. I went into his mind to bring back his memories." He nodded toward Sarah Jane. "I went into her mind so I could tell the chef how much she was enjoying the food."

"Oh," Martha said, looking at him with that look Sarah remembered so well, that look she knew had been on her own face so many times when she was first trying to get her mind around exactly who this Doctor person was. She felt a momentary pang of jealousy for this young woman who had that whole adventure in front of her, the adventure of getting to know this remarkable being they called the Doctor. But then, she thought, he hasn't stopped surprising me yet.

"Bedlam?" she said, finally able to speak again, as the Doctor fed Martha a taste of his _angfwatfwa_. "You're going to have to tell me that story. Is that the name of a planet, or do you mean our Bedlam?"

"Yours, unfortunately," the Doctor answered, his face growing grim. Then he had to smile as he watched Martha's reaction to the food. "Want me to tell the chef?" he asked, starting to reach toward her before she could answer.

She leaned back slightly, hand over her mouth, and shook her head.

"Oh," he said, leaning back himself and sounding slightly deflated.

"You tell him for her," Sarah suggested, and he nodded, closed his eyes for a second, then smiled.

The dishes that had landed in front of Sarah and Martha were not quite as dramatically taste-bud exploding as the _angfwatfwa_, but they were still remarkably good and excitingly exotic. They all exchanged samples, Martha's eyes sparkling as she fed the Doctor a bite from the plate that had landed in front of her. They decided the Doctor could keep the _angfwatfwa_, as being the best able to handle it, while the humans enjoyed the other dishes.

Too soon, they had cleaned their Frisbees (as Sarah couldn't help thinking of them, as they flew themselves away back to wherever they'd come from) and were sipping the after-dinner drinks the Doctor had ordered for them. Sarah had been brought up to date, in a reader's-digest way, on Martha's adventures with the Doctor, and had shared a few of her own. It was, she thought as she glanced around the room, all-in-all, the best lunch date she'd ever had.

"Wish Harry would have come," she said. "I don't know how I'll ever be able to describe this to him."

"Take a picture. Send it to him," the Doctor said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"With what?" she asked. "I didn't think to bring a camera."

"Use Martha's phone," he said. "Martha?"

"Oh, of course," Martha said, digging in her pocket and handing her mobile across the table to Sarah.

She looked at it, then looked at the Doctor. He just returned her gaze expectantly. "You know how to take pictures with a mobile?" he finally asked.

"Yes, I do," she said. "But what's the point when we're a few galaxies away from the nearest tower?"

"Oh, don't worry about that. He set me up with universal roaming," Martha said.

Sarah looked at her, eyes wide. "Seriously." Martha nodded. Sarah looked down at the phone, then up at the Doctor. "Who gets the bill?"

He grinned. "Don't worry about it."

She flipped the phone open, keyed in Harry's number, put the phone to her ear and waited. "Harry?" She laughed. "Harry! You'll never believe where I am! Hang on, I'll show you." She shot a few pictures of the restaurant, Martha and the Doctor, then sent them to Harry. "Did those come through?" She paused and her jaw dropped. "Does that look like Bannerman Road?" she asked sarcastically, giving her companions an amazed look and shaking her head in disbelief. "No, I'm still with the Doctor. And Martha. On Metebelis 5." She paused, listening again. "You'd have to ask him that. All I did was dial." She shook her head again with an affectionate smile. "Okay. Talk to you later. Who knows from where!" She disconnected, handed the phone back to Martha, and laughed. "Now that's something we didn't have in the old days."

"So," Martha asked, a bit too casually. "Is Harry your boyfriend?"

Sarah stopped laughing, thought for a moment, then frowned. "Could I have an easier question?"

"That one's hard?" Martha said.

Sarah nodded. The Doctor gave her a warm smile and then laughed softly. "I know some great honeymoon planets..." he started to say, a twinkle in his brown eyes.

"Don't push it," she interrupted him, eyes flashing a warning. "It's not easy, finding your way out of a thirty-year friendship and into...something else."

"I think Harry would find it very easy," the Doctor said.

"Well, I'm not Harry, am I?"

He laughed, then looked her up and down appreciatively. "No. I don't think I've ever mistaken the two of you. Doubt I ever will."


	2. Chapter 2

A smaller frisbee winged its way into the pod, and the Doctor rummaged in his pockets, finally coming up with an assortment of metal bars, coins, and a small pyramidal piece of metal. He peered at them intently for a moment, then put two of the bars on the frisbee, which flew off.

"Did you leave a tip?" Sarah asked.

The Doctor shrugged and raised his eyebrows. "I hope so. You know me and money."

They left the restaurant and slidewalked back to the TARDIS. They climbed the ramp and Sarah sat cross-legged on the bench seat while the Doctor fired up his ship. Martha leaned against the railing, watching him.

The TARDIS juddered, wheezed and groaned. When she settled into smooth interstellar flight, they resumed their lunch conversation. Martha was in the middle of an animated telling of the story of a scientist whose experiment had backfired on him and turned him into a giant scorpion-like creature when a small new noise distracted Sarah. She glanced over at the Doctor, who was frowning down at the console.

"What's that?" she asked.

He turned dark eyes up to her, then looked back down. "Oh. Nothing. Just a....distress signal," he said, almost mumbling the last two words.

Sarah rose from the seat and stepped over to stand by him and look at the screen where the signal appeared. She looked up at Martha, then back at the Doctor. "Well, we'd better answer it, hadn't we?"

He sighed, blew out a breath. "Oh." He sounded very reluctant. "It's very faint. Probably nothing. Maybe just an echo that's been bouncing around space for ages."

Sarah frowned at him. "Well, we'd better find out, hadn't we?" she said. He gave her a look whose darkness baffled her. She looked over at Martha again, frowned and pointed questioningly at the Doctor.

Martha just shrugged. "Last time we answered a distress call, it got pretty rough," she volunteered.

The Doctor looked up at her. "Yeah. It did." He looked back down at Sarah. "Harry would kill me if I got you involved in something like that."

Sarah felt her jaw drop as she looked at him. She took in a deep breath. "Oh. You did not just say that."

One corner of his mouth turned down and he rubbed his cheek ruefully. "Bad enough getting slapped by mothers. Last thing I need to do is upset a boyfriend." His eyes searched her face. "Or put you in danger," he added softly.

She had been ready to sail into him, but saw in his eyes that fear for her safety, not fear of Harry, was really the thing that was keeping him from answering the distress call.

"Fine," she said, going back to sit on the bench. "I'll stay in the TARDIS. Now...you go ahead...answer the distress call."

He looked at her and then laughed in spite of his worry. "Sure you will." He peered at her intently. "Who are you and what have you done with my Sarah Jane?"

She widened her eyes, relaxed her face, and gave him a vacant stare. "I'm possessed," she said in a robotic voice.

He laughed again, and her heart lifted as she saw the worry recede from his eyes. "Sure you are." He shook his head at her, then turned to the console and started punching keys and turning dials. Sarah and Martha both leaned forward, waiting for his verdict. "It's from an inhabited moon in the Quesanti system. And it's aimed at the planet it's orbiting, which is why it's so faint out here. But it's definitely current." He looked up at them. "Very current."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Sarah asked.

With one last look at the two of them, he set his jaw and started working the console. Moments later, the central column slowed and they landed with a soft plop.

"That didn't feel right," Sarah said with a frown.

The Doctor just threw her a sidelong glance as he shrugged into his long coat and strode down the ramp. Martha and Sarah followed on his heels.

He threw open the doors on a scene of utter chaos. What had obviously once been houses were now shattered shells. Sarah saw a group of muddy humanoid creatures digging frantically in the ruins of one, saw a single creature carrying another, smaller one, away, saw two of them supporting a third as it limped along between them, all of them slipping and sliding in a slurry of mud. It looked like the aftermath of an earthquake or a tsunami or a mudslide or maybe all three combined.

The Doctor plunged out the doors and immediately was up to the tops of his trainers in mud. Martha was about to follow him when Sarah caught her arm.

"Martha. Come with me," she said, nodding up the ramp.

Martha threw her a shocked and appalled look. "No. I'm going to help the Doctor."

Sarah nodded quickly. "So am I. But just come with me first. Trust me. Voice of experience here." She let go of the girl's arm and ran up the ramp. She thought for a second that Martha had ignored her, but then she heard running steps start up behind her.

She led the way to the wardrobe, where she rummaged quickly in the racks of clothes. "Oh, how could he get this place in such a mess again already," she muttered, then remembered it had been more than three weeks for him. Spotting what she'd come for, she took a pair of luminescent orange overalls off the rack, held it up to herself, then tossed it to Martha. "Here. See if this fits." She then took its mate off the rack and quickly put it on over her clothes. As Martha was getting into her overalls, Sarah rummaged some more. "What size shoe do you wear?" she asked.

"Four."

Sarah blew out a breath, then tossed her a pair of wellies. "These are going to be a bit too big for you, but they'll be better than your shoes." She took off her own shoes and slipped into a pair of boots, then stood up and looked at Martha. "Ready?"

Martha gave her a big toothy grin. "Ready!"

They ran back down the ramp and out the TARDIS doors, then came to a slipping and sliding halt in the mud, scanning the scene for the Doctor. He was nowhere in sight, but work that needed to be done was everywhere, so they just plunged in, lending a hand wherever they could. They got some very odd looks at first, but as it quickly became obvious that they were there to help, they were wordlessly accepted.

Sarah couldn't tell exactly what the people looked like as they all were so covered in mud that almost any sort of alien creature could have been hiding under the muck. They were definitely humanoid in shape, though, with a comforting lack of extra limbs or tentacles. But they came in a wider variety of sizes than humans. Well, she corrected herself as she dug in the mud next to a creature half her height, humans do come in the same variety of sizes, but not nearly as commonly. These creatures also had the most extravagant noses, she thought with a sidelong glance at the one beside her. Almost more like beaks, actually.

Her ruminations were interrupted when she felt her digging tool break through into an open space. She set it aside and got down on her hands and knees, pushing mud aside with her hands, feeling something soft, something organic, something.... She grasped it as carefully as she could and pulled it out from under the mud and wreckage.

A piercing scream came from over her shoulder. She looked back and saw one of the creatures holding its head in its hands and wailing in anguish, its huge eyes fixed on the limp little bundle in Sarah's hands.

She looked back down and saw that it was a very small creature. "Must be a baby," she thought, her heart in her throat, as she tried to clean the mud off its face and check for vital signs. Before she could tell anything, the little thing was snatched from her by the screaming creature, who pressed it against her chest and let out another heart-rending cry.

"No. Please. Let me," Sarah said, as gently and urgently as she could, as she held her arms out to the distressed--mother? she had to assume. It looked at her with wide eyes, and Sarah nodded, putting as much reassurance into her own eyes as possible. She took the little one back, held its chest to her ear, and heard nothing. She quickly opened its mouth--beak?--whatever, and found it packed with mud. Using one finger, she cleaned it out as best she could, all the while desperately searching her memory for the techniques of infant CPR that she'd learned long ago in a UNIT class on emergency medical procedures.

Its little beak was still quite soft, so she could wrap her mouth around it and give a gentle puff, feeling its tiny chest rise. She pushed ever so gently on its chest, over where she sincerely hoped its heart was, if it had one. The chest was so small that she figured she would be stimulating every organ in there anyway, and just hoped that these alien bodies worked enough like human bodies for her efforts to do some good. She repeated the breaths and the compressions several times, then paused.

A tiny cough, so small she wouldn't have been sure she heard it if she hadn't seen the movement that went with it, brought quick tears of joy to her eyes. The little one opened its eyes, blinking dazedly, and the mother snatched it up, staring at it with rapture and amazement, then clutching it to her and staring at Sarah Jane with the most naked gratitude she'd ever seen in anyone, or anything's, eyes.

Sarah smiled, and only then realized that these beings couldn't smile. Their beak-like noses came all the way down to their mouths and were too rigid to express emotion. All of their feelings were in their eyes, which were at least twice the size of even the largest human eyes. Sarah stopped smiling, not sure what sort of message they would get from her curled lips, and just tried to express her feelings through her eyes as well.

One infant rescued didn't put an end to the work that needed doing, though, so she turned back to help. They had landed in this moon's dusk and it had quickly slipped into night, although the glow of the planet overhead kept it bright enough to at least see what they were doing without having to resort to torches. Sarah realized at one point that she'd lost track of Martha, and after that occasionally made a point of glancing up from whatever task she was doing to scan the people around her, looking for Martha's luminescent orange overalls. Of course, she thought as she glanced down at herself, there may not be much orange left showing. There certainly wasn't on her. Even her hair was plastered to her head with mud. She tried not to think about it, and just kept on.

Sarah had passed from tired to numb with only a token nod to exhausted along the way when she finally found Martha. The young doctor was sitting on a mud bank outside an emergency triage area where she had obviously been putting her medical training to use. Sarah helped the injured creature who was leaning on her shoulders into the hands of the emergency workers on duty, then dragged her weary self over and squished down next to Martha.

"Sarah Jane? Is that you?" Martha said, peering into her muddy face with an exaggerated show of puzzlement.

Sarah laughed. "I'm not sure." She rolled her head around, first one way, then back the other, and rubbed her neck. "I feel like the mud monster from outer space." She moaned and blew out a puff of breath. "Whatever I am, I'm knackered."

"Me too," Martha agreed. "Been on my feet for hours." She sighed and scratched the back of her head. "I don't know how you do it. You're..." She abruptly closed her mouth and looked at Sarah with wide embarrassed eyes.

"Twice your age?" Sarah finished her sentence for her.

"Oh, never," Martha said, disbelieving.

"At least." Sarah grinned, letting her off the hook. "Don't you know that birds get tougher with age? Any cook could tell you that."

Martha laughed, and gave her a grateful look. "Thanks for the overalls. And wellies." She shook her head. "He never would have thought of something that practical."

Sarah chuckled. "No, he's not like that," she agreed. Then she sighed. Deeply. "His new suit will be a total loss."

"New?" Martha looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. "It's all he's worn since I've known him."

Sarah gave her a wry smile. "I just bought it for him. Three weeks ago."

"But..." Martha stopped and Sarah could see the timey-wimey confusion in her eyes.

"Don't think about it too hard," Sarah said, laughing. "You'll just hurt yourself.

Martha laughed too, taking her advice, and they sat in an exhausted, companionable silence for a bit.

"You bought him his suit?" Martha finally said in a tentative, wondering voice. Sarah nodded. "Who are you? To him?"

Sarah smiled and thought about that for a minute. "An old friend," she finally said. She moaned, stretched, reached behind her and rubbed the small of her back. "A very old friend judging by how I feel at the moment." She relaxed back into the bank, shifting her position a bit and repressing an 'ew' as she felt the mud squelch under her. "Any idea where he is?"

Martha shook her head. "Last I saw, he was over that way." She nodded off to the left.

"Probably running the whole operation by now," Sarah said wearily.

Martha laughed. "Quite right," she agreed, then laughed again.

Sarah joined in, and before they knew it, they were both laughing, that laughter that comes over you at a point where your resources have been stretched as far as they can stretch and you can only laugh or cry. Thinking of the Doctor, their wonderful Doctor, they laughed.

And suddenly, as if their laughter had conjured him up out of the mud, he was there.

"Oi! What's so funny?" he asked, squishing himself down in the mud between them and wrapping an arm around each of them.

"You," Sarah Jane said with a smile.

"How do you know it's me? I don't even recognize myself." He looked down at himself and made a token effort at knocking the top layer of mud off.

"Can't miss you," Sarah said. "You're the tallest ambulatory pile of mud around."

"And no tail feathers," Martha added.

"Quite a distinctive beak, too," Sarah said, looking up at him with a grin.

"Oi!" he said again.

She reached up and gave him a quick apologetic kiss on the cheek, then immediately started spitting out mud and wiping her lips. He looked at her with eyebrows furrowed. "You are filthy!" she laughed between sputters. He raised his eyebrows, ran a thumb over her cheek and showed it to her. "Okay, I am too," she agreed, rubbing her cheeks with her hands in a futile effort to get down to clean skin.

"Good thing you put on those orange overalls. Only way I could keep track of you." He looked at Martha with a twinkle in his eye. "Well, that, and no tail feathers."

Sarah's eyebrows furrowed. "Is that what they have on their..."

Martha laughed. "You didn't notice?"

"Well, everyone's so muddy, it's hard to tell. Thought it could have been part of their clothing. Like a bustle." She lowered her voice. "And I didn't like to stare."

"Definitely feathers," the Doctor said with more enthusiasm than anyone should be able to muster after doing yoeman duty in a disaster area for hours. "Evolution seems to have favored avians over mammals here."

They all sat in silence for a moment. Then Martha giggled.

"What?" asked the Doctor. Martha just looked at Sarah and the giggles got worse.

"What? I know I'm filthy..." Sarah said, making another ineffectual swipe at her cheeks. Martha shook her head but the giggles had her right and proper by then and she couldn't speak.

Sarah and the Doctor looked at each other, shrugged, and looked back at Martha.

She finally managed to squeak out three words. "It's just lunch!"

Sarah grinned, then she started to giggle as well. "It's just lunch!" she repeated, laughing harder.

"Poor Harry!" Martha managed to croak out between giggles.

Sarah waved a hand dismissively in front of her face. "Harry knows. He's travelled with him too."

The Doctor was the only one not laughing. He looked at Sarah, head down, lips compressed, eyes contrite. "Sorry."

Sarah laughed again. "You plum. Don't be silly. I wouldn't have you any other way." She started to reach up to kiss his cheek again, then thought better of it and instead wrapped her arm around his waist and leaned over to give him an affectionate squeeze. She pulled a face, sat up and looked at her arm, then at him. "You know, I can take the exhaustion. I can take the devastation. I can take the suffering." She looked at the Doctor, then at Martha. "But I can't take this mud one more second. Can't we go back to the TARDIS and clean up?"

"I think we've earned that," the Doctor agreed.

Sarah would have had no idea how to find the TARDIS if she'd been on her own. She'd been through too much this night and had totally lost her bearings in the chaos and devastation. The Doctor strode off confidently, however, and she was happy to slip and slide along in the mud in his wake with Martha.

He came to a stop in front of a very large mud bank and looked up at it.

"Oh," he said. Not a good 'oh'. Not a good 'oh' at all.

"'Oh' what?" Sarah asked with trepidation.

"Oh this is where we left the TARDIS," he answered, his lips twisting in unhappy surprise.

There was no sign of the blue box. Just a lot of mud. An enormous amount of mud.

"Are you sure?" Sarah asked.

He nodded. "I can hear her."

"Ahem."

They all heard that--someone clearing his throat rather pointedly behind them. They whirled and saw one of the indigenous beings standing in front of them, legs planted firmly in the mud, hands on hips, feathered crest up. His face was nearly human, were it not for the size of his eyes and the fact that his nose and upper lip were merged into a beak. His fingernails were more claw-like than a human's, and his feet--well, as they were buried in the mud, it was impossible to tell. He wore a short kilt-like garment, as mud-soaked as their own clothes, which left his chest bare between two straps of fabric that went up and over his shoulders.

"Do you speak our language?" he asked the Doctor.

"Yes. Well...ah...we understand you."

"As I do you," he responded. "But I do not understand how for your faces do not appear to be creating the sounds of our language."

"Yeah, well, that's my TARDIS," the Doctor said, nodding over his shoulder at the mud bank. "My ship. She translates for me. For us. And translates us for you." He nodded over his shoulder again. "Did I mention she was back there? In the mud? Buried?" He brought himself up short, wide-eyed, and took a deep breath. "I'm babbling, aren't I. Hullo, I'm the Doctor," he said, extending a hand to the being.

He glanced at the Doctor's hand with a quick downward twitch of his head, then looked back up at him. "I am Rohstan. I wish to tell you that your help has not gone unnoticed. We are very grateful that strangers, not even of our species, would come in response to our distress call and offer help. Working with our injured." Here he gave Martha a sharp look. "Breathing life back into one of our chicks." His head bobbed toward Sarah.

The Doctor looked at Sarah with his eyebrows nearly meeting his hairline. "Did you do that?"

Sarah nodded diffidently. "Just basic infant CPR."

"Not so basic here," he said softly. "D'you think they could do CPR with those beaks?"

Rohstan ahemed again, then went on. "Your hens are very hard workers."

"His what?" Sarah's jaw dropped, and she saw her expression mirrored on Martha's face when she glanced her way.

"Sarah." The Doctor frowned at her. "You know that's not what he really said. It's just how the TARDIS translated it."

"But...hens? Is that the best the TARDIS can do?"

"The word he used obviously doesn't just mean females. It must connote a sense of proprietariness."

"Ownership?" Martha asked, her eyebrows now meeting her hairline.

"Well..." He glanced from one of his companions to the other. "Blimey." He held up both hands, one palm toward each woman, fending off their glares. "Don't blame me!"


	3. Chapter 3

The Doctor took a step toward Rohstan. "My...friends...and I were just hoping to return to our ship to clean up and rest for a bit. But it appears there's been a new mudslide since we landed, and our ship is buried. Could we ask your help in digging her out? Once your people are all safe and cared for, of course," he added.

Rohstan nodded, a quick bob of his head. "We will be honored to assist. In the meantime, we can offer you a place to bathe and rest."

"Oh, thank God," Sarah muttered. Martha threw her a commiserating look.

Rohstan led them through the mudfields, around collapsed buildings and past flocks of workers still digging and searching for victims. Sarah wasn't sure how much longer her legs were going to hold out, trudging through the mud, which clung to her wellies and added five pounds to each already heavy foot. She tried to concentrate on other things and just keep her legs moving mechanically. She noticed, with astonishment, that the sky was lightening and realized that they'd worked through an entire night. Of course, her weary brain said belatedly, who knows how long nights are here. Long, her muscles answered back. Very long.

The last few exhausting steps were up a hill and onto dry land, where a vehicle waited. Rohstan climbed in, then waited, staring, while the Doctor helped Sarah Jane and Martha to step up into their transport, then climbed aboard himself. Sarah relaxed gratefully into the seat. "I'm afraid we're making your vehicle awfully muddy," she said to Rohstan.

He stiffened and looked at the Doctor, who looked mildly back at him. "Hope you have a good cleaning service," the Time Lord said.

"Yes, our hens are quite skilled at laundering items," Rohstan assured him.

"Good. They're going to need to be," Sarah said, yawning. "But why is it a hen's job?"

"Sarah," the Doctor said softly.

"Don't worry, I'm too tired to get on my high horse at the moment," she reassured him. Then she looked at Martha. "But once I'm rested...." She just grinned at the younger woman instead of finishing her sentence.

The drive to Rohstan's headquarters was long, at least an hour, Sarah thought. But she'd drifted in and out of sleep so much on the way that it could have been much more and she wouldn't have known. "I'm on an alien planet," she told herself as she tried to keep her eyes open. "How many more times am I going to have the chance to experience that?" Her body didn't care. Sleep, it said, and she couldn't always resist.

So when they finally arrived at their destination, Sarah's first knowledge of it was Martha, gently shaking her awake. "We're there," the younger woman said. "Wherever there is."

Sarah yawned, stretched, groaned, and climbed out of the vehicle. The mud that caked her clothes, hair and body had had time to dry on the trip and she now felt as though she were encased in a plaster-of-paris cast. "He did say bath, didn't he?"

Martha nodded. "Can't come too soon." She picked at dried chunks of mud that clung to her overalls.

They followed Rohstan into a building and down several corridors. He stopped at a doorway and spoke to the Doctor. "This is the hens' bath. Please advise your hens."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows, which caused flecks of dried mud to break loose and float down onto his cheeks. He ducked his head and brushed them off, then looked at Sarah and Martha, his lips twitching with ill-concealed amusement.

"We heard him," Sarah said wryly. She looked directly at Rohstan, who stiffened. His crest raised and Sarah couldn't help but be reminded of a cockatoo.

"Where will you be?" Martha asked the Doctor.

"With Rohstan, I s'pose," he said, looking at their host for confirmation. Rohstan bobbed his head in a quick nod. "With Rohstan and da guys," the Doctor said in an American accent, curling his lip and jerking his thumb towards the two of them, striking a Rebel-Without-a-Cause macho pose.

"Oh, this place is being such a bad influence on you already," Sarah said, shaking her head at him. He sniggered and dropped the pose.

"See you," Martha said, giving him a little wave.

They turned and walked through the doorway Rohstan had indicated, and found themselves in a short hallway.

"Hope there's more than one so we don't have to take turns," Sarah said as they walked down it.

"Well, he did say it was the hens' bath, plural, so I'd think..." Martha trailed off as they rounded a corner and saw the hens' bath.

It was a big circular room, with a big circular pool at the center of it. On the shining white tiled walls surrounding the pool were a series of pegs, which had garments of various colors hanging from them. In the pool, which appeared to be quite shallow throughout, stood or squatted a number of beings. They all froze at the sight of the humans, their huge eyes staring in astonishment. "Can't blame them," Sarah thought, looking down at herself in her mud covered orange overalls and wellies and glancing at Martha, who was in the same condition. "Bet they've never seen anything like us before."

This was her first chance to see any of these creatures clean and, apparently, naked. She tried not to stare, but as the locals had no trouble staring at them, she did take a moment to check them out.

Tail feathers. Yup, she confirmed to herself. Definitely tail feathers. And crests--nowhere near as big and flashy as Rohstan's, but still, feathery crests on top of their heads. Soft down appeared to cover their arms, with a slightly heavier line of larger feathers visible along the outside of each arm, evolutionary remnant, she supposed, of flight feathers. They came in a variety of colors, but they were all muted tones, soft browns and greys, mostly.

One of them climbed up out of the pool and walked over to them, and Sarah got her first chance to check out their feet. Definitely bird feet, she decided. The skin was leathery and scaly, and the foot had three long toes pointing forward and one backward, each equipped with a curled claw.

"I am Sparona," the hen said with a slight ducking of her head. "Are you the creatures that we have heard of, who came from afar to assist our people in our hour of dread?"

Sarah and Martha exchanged a glance. "Erm, yes," Sarah said.

"S'pose we must be," Martha added.

"Thank you," Sparona said. "We all thank you." She made a graceful sweep of her arm toward all the hens in the pool, who ducked and bobbed their heads in apparent agreement. "Would you care to bathe with us?"

"Oh, yes," Sarah said earnestly. Then she thought about it. "Well. That is."

"I do not mean to offend," Sparona said, plucking at Sarah's overalls. "But...is this your skin or a garment?"

"A garment," Sarah quickly assured her. "A very muddy garment. If we take them off here, it will make a terrible mess on your floor."

"That can be easily remedied," Sparona said. "Renncha? Larenka?" She beckoned to two other hens, who climbed out of the pool and stood by Sarah and Martha and looked at them expectantly.

Sarah and Martha exchanged another glance, then sat down on the floor and pulled off their filthy, mud-caked wellies. One hen carried them off as Sarah and Martha stood up, unzipped their overalls and shucked out of them. Another hen carried them off as well.

"Ah," Sparona said, looking at their regular clothes. "Now. Is this your skin, or more garments?"

"More garments," Martha said, looking at her clothes. The overalls had helped tremendously, but some mud had still managed to seep inside them.

"More filthy garments," Sarah said, curling her lip in distaste as she surveyed her own clothes.

"Then please to remove them and our people will launder them for you while you bathe," Sparona said.

Sarah and Martha again gave each other a look.

"We are so gonna get stared at," Martha said ruefully.

"Like we aren't already," Sarah pointed out softly.

"True."

Sarah looked longingly at the water, then walked over and dipped a toe in to test the temperature. She nearly melted. Blessedly warm.

"It's worth it," she said, and quickly stripped off her clothes and slid into the pool.

Oh, bliss, she thought, closing her eyes and letting herself relax into the water, feeling the mud and the aches floating away. She heard a quiet splash next to her and knew that Martha had also taken the plunge. She held her breath and let herself slide underwater, scrubbing ferociously at her muddy hair, wanting to be rid of the last vestige of the plaguing mud.

When she popped back up to the surface, she saw all eyes were on her.

"I think you freaked them out going underwater," Martha said.

"Oh," Sarah said. "Sorry!" she called out to the hens.

Sparona had re-entered the pool and taken up a position near them. "Sparona," Sarah asked. "Do you have any shampoo?"

Sparona tilted her head quickly and jerkily from side to side. "What is this...shampoo?" She clearly was trying to articulate the unfamiliar word.

"Blimey, the TARDIS is having trouble with this lot's language, isn't she?" Martha commented softly.

"Soap." Sarah tried to make it simpler. "For your..." She looked around at the hens who were staring, fascinated, at her. "...head feathers," she finished, lamely.

Sparona again flicked her head quickly from side to side. "We do not use soap on feathers. But...your feathers are not like ours."

"Any sort of gentle soap would do," Sarah said. "Something you'd use on a very delicate fabric, perhaps?"

Sparona nodded, then conferred quietly with another hen, who got out of the pool and headed off in the direction of the hens who had taken their muddy clothes away. She came back in a minute with a bottle of pink liquid and handed it to Sparona, who handed it to Sarah.

Sarah sniffed it, poured a little on her hand and rubbed it on her arm. It foamed up nicely. She rinsed her arm, then inspected it carefully.

"Seems harmless," she commented to Martha. "Well, here's for it. If I end up bald...." She poured the liquid into her hands and soaped up her hair, then ducked underwater again to rinse. When she came back up, she saw Martha staring at her head. "Is it still there?" she laughed, running her hands through her long auburn hair to reassure herself.

They were both scrubbed clean and wrinkly from staying in the water so long when they finally decided they had had enough and needed to find the Doctor. Sparona met them with towels and two clean garments as they climbed out of the pool--not their own clothes, which, she explained, were not ready yet, but two of the garments the hens wore. Sarah dried herself, then slipped into the blue garment that was handed to her, while Martha donned a lavender version.

They looked at each other, then both quickly and instinctively crossed their arms over their chests. "Erm. Sparona," Sarah said.

"Yes?" she replied.

"Erm. Do you have anything a bit more, erm, well, less revealing?" The hens' outfits were much like the men's--a skirt with two broad straps that went over the shoulders. The straps were nowhere near broad enough to accommodate human modesty, though.

Sparona looked at them with that quizzical air that they'd elicited from her so many times already. "You wish to cover your chest appendages?"

They both snorted with embarrassed laughter. "Yes. We do."

"We do not have such appendages," Sparona said, running her hands down her smooth, flat chest to demonstrate.

"Right," Martha choked out. "But we do. And in our culture, we keep them covered up in public."

"Ah." Sparona called another hen over to her, conferred with her for a moment, and then sent her off out of the bath room. "Please to wait and we will accommodate your needs."

"And while you're at it," Matha said, peering over her shoulder. "Could you do something about the gap in the back?"

Sarah had thought she felt a draft back there, but had been too flustered to really inspect. Now she looked over her shoulder too, and then tried to position herself so no one was behind her. The garment had a large hole in the back, obviously designed to accommodate the hens' tail feathers. "Yes, please," she added to Martha's request.

Sarah was starting to feel sorry for Sparona. She didn't know if she had been assigned to act as their hostess or if she had just volunteered for the job, but obviously, two alien females were proving a bit much for her. "That is to accommodate your tail feathers," the hen said.

"Yeah, well, I don't want my tail feathers sticking out," Martha laughed. She looked at Sarah. "You?"

Sarah laughed too. "No, I don't."

Sparona gave what must have been the bird version of a shrug, called another hen over to her, and sent her scurrying off after the last one.

"It shall be so, then," she said.

The hens must have been skilled seamstresses, because it wasn't long at all before they came back with two modified garments. A piece of fabric had been sewn in between the two front straps, and the tail feather hole had been filled in with another bit of fabric.

"Much better," Martha said, modelling the outfit and checking out her reflection in the shiny white tiles. "Thank you."

Sarah offered her thanks as well and then they padded barefoot after Sparona, who led them out the hallway, back into the corridor where they'd last seen the Doctor, and into another room. There they found the Doctor, all clean and shiny, togged out in one of the local kilts, wild hair freed of mud and back to having a life of its own, engaged in an animated conversation with Rohstan.

He flashed them that dazzling grin of his and gave them a wave, then quickly turned back to Rohstan. Sarah looked around the room for a comfortable chair, but it seemed these people only went in for hard wooden seats. Ladderback chairs, but with a few rungs missing toward the bottom. To accommodate their tailfeathers, of course, she thought. A nice, soft, comfy overstuffed chair wouldn't do at all for a being with tailfeathers. Sure would do for me right now, she thought sleepily. The combination of a long night of strenuous activity followed by a long soak in hot water had left her ready to drop in the traces. She glanced over at Martha, who had perched on one of the hard chairs, and saw the same look of dopey exhaustion on her face that she knew was on her own.

Sarah sank down on one of the chairs and closed her eyes. The second time she snapped back awake just in time to keep from falling off the chair, she heard the Doctor say, "I think my friends are ready for a rest."

"Of course," Rohstan said. "Let me show you to your quarters."

Sarah opened her eyes and blinked muzzily. The Doctor was standing in front of her, smiling down at her affectionately. "Come on, Sarah. Martha. You deserve a nice long kip."

They stood and shook their heads, trying to clear the sleep out long enough to get to a bed. Then Sarah suddenly noticed what the Doctor was wearing. "Turn around," she said with a grin.

"What..." he started to say with a frown. Then he twigged. "You first," he said, one eyebrow raised, eyes glinting with mischief.

***************

Sarah Jane was stumbling tired. The last time she remembered being this tired, she'd been a little girl and had fallen asleep on the sofa, waiting for Father Christmas to arrive. Aunt Lavinia had found her there and had walked her, asleep on her feet, to her bedroom. She had so yearned for a pair of strong arms to scoop her up and carry her to bed that night.

She was just about to that point again. Then she felt a strong arm wrap itself around her waist, and she looked up into the concerned brown eyes of a Time Lord. She smiled blearily at him in what she hoped was a reassuring way, wrapped her arm around his waist, burrowed into his side, closed her eyes, and just let him guide her to wherever it was they were going.

He fairly hummed with energy. She could feel it, all up and down her side and waist and arm, wherever their bodies touched. That's odd, she thought with the small part of her brain that was alert enough to think. I've held him and touched him--many times--before and never felt anything quite like this. Sure, he's always full of energy--this version of him even more than the others--but this... Well, maybe it was just because she'd never been this tired before. Not when he was around, anyway. She let it go and just walked along beside him, enjoying the hum, for another minute, until another thought occurred to her. He's doing it deliberately. Yes, that felt right. He's sending me energy. He knows how nearly out of petrol I am and he's filling my tank with his own boundless supply.

She opened herself to the energy, invited it in, welcomed it. He must have been able to tell, because the hum escalated until it became a song. By the time they reached their quarters, Sarah felt as if she'd had, if not a good night's sleep, then at least a very refreshing catnap.

"Thanks," she said, looking up at him.

"Wha' for?" he asked, eyebrows raised, the picture of bemused innocence.

She ignored the pretense. "You're better than a cup of coffee."

He dropped the innocent look when he realized he'd been rumbled, then grinned and clicked his teeth. "And no caffeine jitters!"

Rohstan was waiting, hands on hips, his crest rising and falling impatiently, for the Doctor's attention. When he got it, he showed him around the quarters, Sarah and Martha listening in and following along but totally ignored by their host.

It looked much like any generic apartment or hotel suite on Earth, except for not having any bad art on the walls or any upholstered furniture. The main door opened onto a room with a table and four wooden chairs. A large monitor screen, dark now, was embedded in one wall. Adjoining this first room was a kitchenette which, Rohstan showed the Doctor, was well stocked with food. There was some sort of soft covering on the floor, but it clearly wasn't carpet as they knew it. Makes sense, Sarah mused. Carpet is made up of loops and, with their talons, they'd forever be catching them in the loops.

Rohstan led them down a short hallway and opened the door on a windowless room whose walls and ceiling were painted midnight blue. "This is the sleep room," he said. That definitely got Sarah's attention, so she stepped over to where he stood to look inside.

She saw three structures, each placed a foot or two in front of a wall. Each structure looked like a padded cylinder that stood about a foot high, two wooden legs holding it up, one at each end. Like little hurdles, she thought. Little padded hurdles. But you couldn't jump over them. You'd jump right into the wall. Or if you tried to jump from the wall side into the center of the room, you couldn't, because there was no take-off room. And that's because they're not hurdles, her tired brain finally realized. They're....

"Perches!" she said, turning to Martha and the Doctor.

Rohstan's crest rose and fell quickly as the Doctor stepped to the door to confirm Sarah's diagnosis. "Erm, Rohstan," he said after seeing the perches. "We don't perch. We sleep lying down."

"Actually?" Rohstan asked.

"I'd be happy to demonstrate if he needs a visual," Sarah said.

The Doctor chuckled, then answered Rohstan. "Yes. Humans sleep in beds. And Time Lords," he added, offhandedly. "When I sleep."

Rohstan made a peculiar noise, sort of a cross between a chuckle and a cluck. A cluckle, Sarah thought, amusing herself.

"Do you jest?" he said.

"What's that?" the Doctor asked.

"Time Lords. Sleep in beds." Rohstan cluckled again, longer this time.

"Well. I'm fairly adaptable. But yes, beds work for me. Like humans."

Rohstan's large eyes looked puzzled and he flicked his head from side to side. "You are saying you are a Time Lord?"

"Hadn't I mentioned that?" the Doctor said. "Yes. I am."

"That is impossible. Time Lords are legendary."

"Well..." the Doctor said, pulling a 'meh' face.

"And the legends say they became extinct in a great war."

The Doctor's face sobered. Sarah straightened, throwing Rohstan a warning look, and saw Martha step closer to the Doctor, placing her hand on his arm and looking up at him tenderly.

"All but one," the Doctor said shortly.

"You." Rohstan said, looking at him with a peculiar blend of awe and skepticism. The Doctor nodded. "But...that cannot be. That the stuff of legend springs to life before me." The Doctor raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "But...if you were...are....were a Time Lord, then, so say the legends, you can...could...regenerate. Completely."

The Doctor nodded. "Done it a few times, yeah." A muscle in his jaw jumped as his face grew grim. "A few too many, actually."

Rohstan's crest rose and fell and his head bobbed frantically. "I do not wish to offend an honored guest, but I am experiencing difficulty believing you."

"I've seen it," Sarah said. Rohstan looked at her, then at the Doctor, who nodded.

"And Martha's come close. A couple of times." The Doctor wrapped an arm around Martha's shoulders and gave her a wan smile.

"But...if this is so....it is brilliant! Wonderful! Fantastic!" Rohstan crowed.

The Doctor, Sarah and Martha all stared at him in surprise. "Why?" the Doctor finally asked.

"My research!" he said. "As I told you, I am a scientist. This is a scientific research complex we are in. And my area of research is tissue regeneration."

"Really," the Doctor said, perking up and looking interested.

Rohstan bobbed his head again. "Yes. There are species on the home planet that can regenerate limbs if they are damaged or severed. Related species to ours, but not as advanced."

"Must be like salamanders on Earth," the Doctor said softly to Sarah and Martha.

Rohstan carried on without noticing. "My research seeks to determine the mode and mechanism of regeneration. Perhaps with the future result of our species being able to regenerate limbs. Or even--although I dared not dream it until now--complete regeneration if the entire organism is damaged beyond repair." He peered at the Doctor. "That is what Time Lords do, is it not?"

"Yup," the Doctor agreed.

"Oh," Rohstan gasped. "Will you help me? Please say you will assist me with my research!"

"Ah. Well. Of course. I'd love to see what you're working on. And if I can help, well, it's the least I can do. Since your people are going to help retrieve my ship and all."

Rohstan fairly danced with joy.

Sarah yawned. She really couldn't help it. She did put a hand in front of her mouth, but it was still clearly a yawn. A big one.  
The Doctor's energy infusion had been wonderful while it lasted, but it was wearing thin.

"But back to beds," the Doctor said to Rohstan, acknowledging Sarah's contribution. He proceeded to carefully describe a bed and mattress, Rohstan listening and nodding all the while.

While the Doctor talked, Sarah walked into the sleep room and sat on one of the perches, since they seemed to be the softest seats around. She leaned back against the wall, but it was a bit too far for comfort, so she sat back up and rested her elbows on her knees. Martha walked over and sat wearily on the perch that stood in the center of the adjoining wall and Sarah gave her an encouraging smile.

"I'd be happy to sleep on the floor at this point," Martha said. "Do you suppose they at least have blankets?"

"Not sure I'd even need a blanket."

"Hang on, you two," the Doctor said. "Rohstan is going to work something out for us."

"Soon?" Sarah said hopefully.

"Hang on, I said," he repeated, kindly but firmly.

"Hanging," Martha confirmed.

"By a thread," Sarah added. She slid off the perch and onto the floor, trying to use the perch first as a back rest--too low--then as a pillow--too high. "Oh well," she thought. "Since I'm down here anyway..." She rolled onto her side, curled up with her arm under her head for a pillow, and closed her eyes.

At some point, she heard the Doctor's voice calling her name, but it just worked its way into her dreams and she didn't even open her eyes. Then she felt strong arms scoop her up, one under her back, the other under her knees, and that worked its way into her dreams too. The arms deposited her on a softer surface than the one she had been on, and then even dreams couldn't find their way into her sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Sarah Jane stretched languorously and rolled over. Then she groaned, deeply and with feeling. Every muscle protested the abuse it had received the previous day. "What did I do to myself?" she wondered for a moment, before it all came back to her. Lunch with the Doctor. Oh. Right. She laughed and allowed herself one more minute of blessed inertia, then forced herself to sit up.

The room was dark, with only a bit of light coming in through the door, which had been left slightly ajar. It was enough for her to see that she sat in a woven circular nest-like basket which was filled with incredibly soft pillows. It wasn't the easiest thing to climb out of, but she managed. She walked to the door, trying to finger-comb her hair into some sort of order, and hoping her muscles warmed up and forgave her soon.

She found the Doctor and Martha sitting at the table in the main room, finishing up a breakfast of what looked like alien fruits and grains. They had changed out of their bird-people kit and were wearing their own perfectly clean, fresh clothes.

"Morning, sleepyhead," the Doctor greeted her.

"Morning," Martha echoed cheerfully, giving her a big smile.

"Don't look at me," Sarah grumped, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"Why ever not?" the Doctor asked, honest bafflement in his voice and on his face.

Sarah laughed, walked behind him, and hugged his neck, resting her cheek on top of his head for a moment. "Sometimes I so love the fact that you're an alien," she said. He looked up at her, even more confused. "No human male could possibly have said that with any degree of sincerity," she explained with a chuckle. She looked at his suit, then took a lapel between her fingers and felt it carefully. "Amazing. I thought this would be a total loss. The hens do good work."

"Your clothes are on the chair." Martha nodded toward the chair she meant, where Sarah saw her clothes in a neatly-folded pile.

"Wonderful," Sarah said, picking up all but the overalls and holding them to her chest. She looked at Martha. "Now please tell me there's indoor plumbing."

Martha laughed and nodded. "Just down the hall, second door on the right. Not exactly what you'd find on earth, but...well....you'll know what to do."

"I expect I will," Sarah Jane agreed as she headed down the hall.

She did. She even found something that resembled a comb, presumably designed for preening but workable with hair, so she was able to make herself presentable enough not to frighten small children--or little chicks, she thought with a grin, remembering where she was.

"So, what's for breakfast, or have you eaten it all?" she asked when she rejoined her companions at the table.

"We have a lovely assortment of fruit, grains, nuts, seeds..." said Martha, gesturing at the laden table. Then her eyes widened, she pulled an 'ew' face and finished her catalog of what was available. "...and a big bowl of something that looks like giant mealworms."

Sarah frowned and peered at the bowl she indicated. The Doctor obligingly picked it up and held it under her nose. She leaned back after one look. "Thanks, but I think I'll pass."

"They're not so bad," the Doctor said, popping one in his mouth and crunching it as he returned the bowl to its place on the table. "Lots of protein!"

"I suppose a nice plate of scrambled eggs is out of the question," Sarah said, straight-faced.

Martha snorted with laughter, and the Doctor gave her a horrified look. "Sarah Jane!"

She grinned. "Just kidding!"

He huffed and shook his head. "Can't take you anywhere." But then he grinned too.

Sarah helped herself to a blue plum-like fruit and a pink something-or-other that could have been a distant relative of a banana. She sliced the latter on top of a bowl of some sort of hot grain dish, and gave it a tentative taste. "So, did I miss anything by sleeping in?"

"Just a recap of everything the Doctor learned about this place while we were taking our bird bath," Martha said.

"Which was?" She looked expectantly at the Doctor, and he obligingly retold his tale.

According to Rohstan, he explained, the moon they were on was primarily used for scientific research and as a resort. Scientific research had been moved to the moon after several accidents in research laboratories on the home world had caused isolated outbreaks of disease and some environmental contamination. The resort was on the other side of the moon from the research complex and pre-dated the "Safe Science" movement. It was such a popular and profitable enterprise that many people still holidayed there, presumably feeling secure in the knowledge that they would only be there for a short time on their holiday and the odds were in their favor that no scientific accidents would happen in that time. The disaster they had landed in was the result of an earthquake, followed by a tsunami in the freshwater sea that bordered the resort town.

"They're still searching for survivors and working on cleanup," the Doctor said in conclusion. "Martha's going to help with the injured again today, and I'll do my bit wherever I'm needed."

"Well, sign me up for something," Sarah said between bites. "The sooner we get this lot squared away, the sooner they can start digging out the TARDIS." Then she stopped, eating utensil halfway to her mouth. "Would prefer duty in a mud-free zone, if it can be arranged."

The Doctor chuckled. "You don't even have to help if you don't want to, Sarah Jane." He gave her an appraising look. "You were so tired last night. I was worried about you."

"Well, digging in mud wasn't probably the best match for my skill set," she agreed. "But it seemed to be the thing that most needed doing at the moment so that's what I did."

"And wore yourself out doing it," Martha said, commiserating.

"I'm sure I wasn't the only one."

The Doctor beamed at her, then at Martha. "And thank you both for reflecting well on me."

Sarah raised her eyebrows questioningly as she took another bite of her alien oatmeal. Since Martha's mouth was empty, she asked the question that had to be asked. "And how did we do that?"

"Well," the Doctor said, drawing out the word. "Apparently, what I did yesterday was just what was expected of a man. But having such hard working hens boosted my status considerably." They both just stared at him, and he nodded. "A man is judged by his hens in this culture. So even though the size and color of my crest leaves a lot to be desired," he continued, ruffling his hair and trying to get it to stick up as much as possible. "And I have no tail feathers to speak of at all..." He paused to let them both finish sniggering. "I can hold up my head here thanks to you."

"You're very welcome," Martha said, between chuckles.

"If hard-working hens are so valued, why does Rohstan act like we don't exist?" Sarah asked around a mouthful of cereal.

"Oh," the Doctor said, his eyes widening. "It's considered extremely bad manners for a man to talk to another man's hens in front of him."

"Really?" Sarah asked.

The Doctor nodded. "Gender-based rules are quite strict here."

"Like the division of labour?" Sarah asked, remembering Rohstan's comment about the hens being good at laundering things. The Doctor nodded again. "Then why was Martha allowed to work as a doctor?"

"Because medicine is women...erm....hens' work here."

"Oh." Sarah realized she'd been assuming that the division of labour would follow the same pattern as the happily antiquated one back home. "Then who are the journalists? Hens or...." She paused, then grinned as a new thought struck her. "If the TARDIS translates their word for females as hens, why doesn't it translate the word for male as rooster or cockerel?"

"Because the male of the species is just a man. No sense of proprietariness...ownership..." he added, with an apologetic nod to Martha. "...is contained in the term. But hens are females who are attached to a certain male. There's probably a different term for an unattached female, but we haven't run across it yet, because they assumed you were attached to me." He gave them both his most charming smile. "As I like to think you are."

Sarah and Martha exchanged eye-rolling glances. "Good thing they gave us back our wellies," Martha said.

"It is getting a bit deep in here, isn't it," Sarah agreed with a wry smile.

"And as for the journalist question," the Doctor said, wisely moving the conversation on. "We could find out. We could turn on the television."

Sarah's eyebrows went up. "They have television?"

"Of course they do," the Doctor said, nodding toward the monitor embedded in the wall. Sarah looked at it and realized she'd been too sleepy to even notice it the night before. "They have a very advanced technological culture."

"And having television proves that how?" Sarah asked.

The Doctor ignored her and aimed a small black rod at the screen, which promptly sprang to life. He waved the rod about, which caused the programs to change. He stopped it on what appeared to be a news program. "Looks like their news readers are males," he observed. He waved the rod again and stopped when the screen showed a large group of the bird people sitting in an audience and watching what appeared to be a presenter and several guests on stage.

The guests started arguing with each other, and the audience joined in, screaming raucously in support of one side or the other. The presenter tried to intervene but was shouted down.

"Oh please," Sarah Jane said after a moment. "I don't watch this sort of garbage at home. Do we have to here?"

"Just wondered if you wanted to hear what their language would sound like if the TARDIS weren't translating it for you," he said.

Sarah perked up, her curiosity piqued. "Definitely."

"Martha?" the Doctor asked.

"How would you do that?" the younger woman answered with her own question. "With the TARDIS buried and all?"

"By using my mind to block the telepathic translation temporarily," he answered.

Sarah understood Martha's hesitation perfectly. "Go ahead," she encouraged her. "He won't look at anything you don't want him to look at." Martha stared at her wide-eyed, as if she thought Sarah might be reading her mind. "Just put it behind a door," Sarah went on. And slam it tightly, she thought, with a knowing smile.

"Okay," Martha said, still not sounding at all sure.

"Just watch the screen and listen," the Doctor said as he reached a long arm out to each side, touching Sarah on the temple with one hand and Martha with the other.

Sarah had to laugh as the true sounds of the local language came through to her. A cacophony of squawking, cawing and cackling came from the television speakers. "How does the TARDIS ever turn that into a language?"

"She's having a bit of trouble with it sometimes," the Doctor conceded. "When the local language doesn't have a word, or even a concept, for something we say, the TARDIS doesn't have anything to work with." He lowered his hands from the women's temples.

Martha turned and looked at him, eyes soft with wonder. "Amazing. Thank you."

He gave her a warm smile. "Thank you for letting me. For trusting me," he said gently.

Sarah picked up the black rod from the table where the Doctor had set it down to free his hands to de-translate for them. After waving it a variety of ways, which brought up more things that she wouldn't want to see at home and definitely didn't want to see here, it finally clicked off. "Right, well, just because the talking heads are males doesn't mean women don't do the writing here, but I don't see that writing is going to be a much needed skill in a disaster zone, so it's something of a moot point. Let's just ask what's needed and I'll see what best suits me."

"You can always help me out in the medical area," Martha offered. "I'd be glad for the human company." She gave Sarah a warm smile. "And I know you can do infant CPR, so you must have some medical training."

"Just the basics," Sarah said. "But I'd be glad for the human company too. Thanks."

"Right, then, hens. _Allons-y_!" their Time Lord rooster crowed.

********

Sarah got her wish--the hospital where she and Martha spent the day was, indeed, a mud-free zone. The triage area at the disaster site had been closed and the casualties moved to more hygienic surroundings, much to everyone's relief. Sarah's only regret all day was that she didn't have her notebook and pen with her, because there were so many things she wanted to write down about these people and this moon and world of theirs. And about Martha. She watched the younger woman at work and liked what she saw--a dedicated doctor, open to new ideas, not afraid to ask when she didn't know, and quick to put what she learned to use.

They were, of course, also the focus of all eyes--all big bird eyes--at first.

"How must we look to them," Sarah mused to Martha on one of their breaks. "No feathers." She ruffled her shiny long hair. "No beaks." .

"Well," Martha laughed. "A bit of a beak."

"Just these funny little soft things," Sarah answered. She grasped the tip of her nose between her thumb and forefinger and shook it back and forth to illustrate. "And no claws." She made her fingers into claws, then looked at her nails and frowned at the state they were in. "Don't hold up very well when digging in mud," she finished ruefully.

"And such soft little feet that we have to go about in these to protect them," Martha added, sticking her wellied foot out.

By the end of the first day working with the hens, though, their differences seemed much less and definitely less important. The hens accepted them and were even making a point of befriending them and making sure they felt welcome. Still, it felt good to return to their quarters and the Doctor at the end of a long day.

The three travellers shared their evening meal and compared notes on their respective days. They were all relaxing and sipping a hot fruity after-dinner drink when a trilling noise echoed through the apartment.

Sarah and Martha looked around, puzzled, but the Doctor obviously had sussed out the source. He stretched out a long arm and pushed a button on the wall by the door.

"Yes?" he said to the air.

"Doctor? May I enter?"

"Of course," the Doctor replied, getting up and opening the door.

Rohstan entered, his large eyes scanning the Time Lord up and down. "Does the bed meet your specifications?"

The question obviously took the Doctor by surprise. "Bed?" he asked.

"Yes," Rohstan replied. "The carpenters built and delivered it today."

"Oh," the Doctor said. "Haven't even looked in there since I got back. Have you two?" he asked Sarah and Martha.

They shook their heads, then stood and followed as the Doctor and Rohstan headed toward the sleep room.

When Rohstan switched on the light, they saw that the nest baskets that had been provided for them the night before were gone. In their place was--a bed. Well. Not a bad facsimile of a bed, Sarah thought, for non-bed-using aliens to come up with solely on the basis of the Doctor's description. A wooden frame with fabric stretched over it, and on top, what looked to be a giant version of those incredibly soft pillows that Sarah remembered waking up in the midst of this morning.

"Blimey, it's wonderful. Thank you, Rohstan," the Doctor said, honest admiration in his voice. Rohstan's comb fluttered up and down with pleasure.

Sarah Jane and Martha looked at the bed--the single, big bed that took up nearly all the floor space in the sleep room--and then exchanged glances. There was, after all, only the one bed. Big. Well bigger than a king size bed back home. But still. Only one.

"Togetherness," Sarah said softly.

Martha's lips twisted in a rueful smile. "Not like I haven't shared a bed with him before."

Sarah's eyebrows flew up. "Really?"

Martha nodded, then shook her head in response to Sarah's unasked question. "Nothing happened. Except sleep." Her eyes lost focus as she remembered that awkward night. "And not much of that."

"Well." Sarah thought for second. "I say we make him sleep in the middle." Martha's eyes flicked up to meet hers and Sarah saw relief, surprise and amusement all in them.

"Works for me," Martha agreed.

Then Sarah frowned as another thought occurred to her. "What?" Martha asked in response to her changed expression.

"Nothing," Sarah said, hoping she was right. She sighed when she saw that Martha wasn't buying it. "Just...seems odd they'd go to all this trouble when we'll only be here a few nights. Until they get the TARDIS dug out."

Martha's eyes clouded with worry and Sarah regretted voicing her concern. "He did seem awfully thrilled when he found out the Doctor was a Time Lord," Martha said, glancing over at Rohstan, who was chatting with the Doctor.

Sarah nodded. "Didn't he just."

The Doctor pish-tushed their concerns when they shared them with him after Rohstan wished the Doctor a good night and left. "He's a good man," the Doctor said, flopping down on the bed and letting his long arms fall out to each side. "Just making sure we have what we need to feel comfortable while we're here." He pushed down on the giant pillow with both hands, testing its softness. "And this is definitely comfortable." When they didn't say anything, he frowned. "I'm surprised at you two, seeing something sinister in an act of kindness."

Sarah sighed. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I've just met too many evil scientists travelling with you."

"I've met more than you," the Doctor said. "And I know Rohstan isn't one. Trust me."

"Well."

The Doctor sat up and patted the pillow on both sides of himself, inviting Sarah and Martha to sit. Martha obliged, but Sarah still stood, arms crossed, a concerned look in her eyes.

"Martha, tell her," the Doctor said. "Professor Lazarus. I didn't even have to meet him to know there was something off about him. Remember?"

Martha nodded at Sarah. "He's right. He just saw him on telly and right away knew something was wrong."

"He's the one you told me about that turned into the giant scorpion thing?" Sarah responded. Martha nodded. Sarah paused for a moment, eyes thoughtful, then looked at the Doctor. "Do you think he was always evil?"

She saw the Doctor tilt his head back, his brown eyes searching her face. "Dunno. I would hope not." He shook his head. "I'm not sure I'd even call him evil. Just misguided. Severely misguided," he added in response to Martha's astonished look.

"A good man, maybe, at some point. Gone over to the dark side in pursuit of his research." Sarah was searching the Doctor's face now. "A good man. Until his research took him over, drove him to do something..." She trailed off, letting the others fill in the blanks themselves.

"Sarah," the Doctor said, sounding unhappy. "Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I do," she answered sharply.

"Then trust my intuition."

She stared at him. "I do," she said, much more softly. "But you're not Superman, you know," she couldn't help adding with a bit more asperity.

"Oh, I don't know," the Doctor answered, sticking out his bottom lip thoughtfully. "I've been mistaken for Kal more than once."

"Kal?" Martha asked, baffled.

"Kal-El. Superman's real name," Sarah said, a lopsided smile working its way onto her face despite her worries. "He is so winding us up. Superman is not real," she stated decisively. The Doctor just raised one eyebrow provocatively and smiled an enigmatic smile. Sarah laughed reluctantly. "Cause if he is, and you never introduced me, you are in such trouble."

"That's my Sarah Jane," the Doctor said with a relieved smile.

Sarah wasn't quite ready to let it go, though. "You will ask him about the TARDIS again, won't you?"

"I don't need to. He brought it up himself. As we were working together, side by side, all day," he added pointedly.

"What did he say?" Martha asked.

"Well, the mud is hardening as it dries. So it is going to take a bit more time and effort to dig her out. And of course I wouldn't even want them to start until their people are all taken care of. I had to argue that point with him." He gave Sarah a direct look. "He wanted to get started right away."

Maybe he wants a Time Lord _and_ his TARDIS, Sarah thought as she returned the Doctor's gaze. She sighed. Or maybe I am being paranoid, she told herself.

***************

The next day they again helped out with disaster relief, but by the third day, they were thanked and told they could stand down. Rohstan recruited a work party to start digging out the TARDIS, and Sarah began to think that the worst thing they would have to face would be boredom if they had to sit around waiting until the time ship was freed from the mud bank. However, that was not to be.

"How would you two like to be on television?" the Doctor asked them that morning.

Sarah and Martha exchanged glances.

"Strictly Come Dancing?" Martha asked, tilting her head and raising her eyebrows at the Doctor.

"Not for me," Sarah said, shaking her head. "Not much of a dancer." She looked at the Doctor. "X Factor might be a better option."

"Doing what?" Martha asked.

"Oh, I know a certain Time Lord who does a great escape act."

"Sarah." The Doctor chuckled, while Martha looked baffled. "It's been years for me, remember? I'm out of practice. And my props are all on the TARDIS. Besides, I want to work with Rohstan on his research. Told him I would, don't want to let him down. After he's been so kind to us."

"So while you're working with Rohstan, we're getting our fifteen minutes?" Sarah asked.

"Why not?" The Doctor smiled. "The networks are all clamoring to interview you."

Sarah turned to Martha with a frown. "I haven't heard any clamoring. Have you?"

Martha shook her head. "Not a single clamor."

Sarah turned back to the Doctor. "Must be going to our agent." She looked at him pointedly.

"Okay, okay, they can't ask you directly, that would be rude," he said. "They asked me to ask you. Well. They asked me to give permission for you to be interviewed."

"And did you grant it?" Sarah asked, a bit overly sweetly.

"Of course," he said. Then a mischievous glint came into his brown eyes. "I'm proud of my hens!"

Sarah clicked her tongue and shook her head at him. Then she looked at Martha with questioning eyebrows.

"Could be fun," Martha said. "Better being on it than sitting around here watching it all day."

Sarah nodded. "I'm with you there." She turned to the Doctor. "So long as you don't book us on the local version of Jeremy Kyle."


	5. Chapter 5

"Galindor Flumenplock! So happy to have you with us. Aliens! Imagine!"

Sarah looked up...and up....and up and her eyes grew wider and wider the higher they rose.

"Oh. I'm so sorry!" she said when she was able to tear her eyes away from the vision before her.

He tipped his head quizzically from side to side. "Why are you sorry?"

"Well, where we come from, it's considered rude to stare at a person's..erm...bodily characteristics."

He tossed his head back, his comb rising and falling, and crowed with laughter. "Here, it is a compliment! Stare all you like!"

So they did. And they saw a being at least as tall as the Doctor, and nearly as slim. He wore one of the kilt garments made of a shimmering emerald green fabric that was embroidered with intricate patterns in a rainbow of equally vibrant colors. The straps that extended from the waistband of his kilt and over his shoulders were edged in gold and silver stitching and decorated with jewels that looked like sapphires, rubies and amethysts, except that the colors were far richer than their earthly equivalents.

As dazzling as his clothes were, though, they looked dull and dowdy compared to the feathery crest that rose from the top of his head and added two feet to his height. As they watched, that crest not only rose, but spread out side to side, so they could see the most remarkably vibrant colors--flaming orange, the hottest of hot pinks, shining yellow, glorious purple--all mixed and mingled in eye-shattering profusion.

He stood for a moment, hands on hips, elbows akimbo, basking in their amazement, then slowly turned and, looking over his shoulder at them, spread his tail feathers. Their reaction clearly delighted him. Sarah nearly had to pick her jaw up off the floor at the display of plumage. An earth peacock would curl up his toes and die of envy, she thought, looking at the long and luxuriant array of plumes which flashed the same brilliant colors as his crest.

With a satisfied cluckle, he turned back to face them and Sarah finally remembered her manners. "I'm Sarah Jane Smith," she said, holding out her hand to him. "And you said you were...?"

"Galindor Flumenplock," he responded, tipping his head curiously as he looked at her extended hand. She was about to draw it back, deciding that shaking hands was a custom that hadn't developed here, when he reached out with his leathery, taloned hand. He took her hand and held it, palm up, staring at it with his large yellow eyes. "So soft," he said, as he trailed his talons gently across her palm. "An alien hand in my hand. To think I have lived to see this day." He shook his head, feathers bobbing.

"Ah." Sarah gave a small involuntary gasp, curled her fingers up over her palm and retrieved her hand from his grasp.

"You alright?" Martha asked softly, concerned.

She nodded. "Those talons are sharp," she said, equally softly, surreptitiously showing Martha the four red marks that now decorated her palm. "Be careful."

Martha turned to the being. "I'm Martha Jones. Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Flumenplock." She kept her hands in her pockets and just nodded at him.

"Martha Jones," he repeated, tasting the sounds. "Sarah Jane Smith. Such alien names! How delightful!" His astonishing crest rose and fell rapidly. "But please, call me Galindor! To be on first name terms with aliens would be amazing for me!"

"Galindor," Sarah Jane said obligingly, and his yellow eyes glowed with happiness. "Are you the one who will be interviewing us?"

His crest fell abruptly. "You haven't heard of me?"

"No, sorry," she said. She looked at Martha, who shook her head. "We haven't been here long. And we've been busy."

"Of course you have!" he said, his crest rising again. "And that's why we want to interview you. Come with me."

He took them to a room where three stools were lined up in front of mirrors. He sat on one and immediately a flock of hens appeared and started fussing over him, preening his feathers for him, rubbing polish on his hooked black beak to further blacken it and make it glisten, and dusting his cheeks with powder.

"Sit!" he said, waving a hand at the other two stools. They did, and several of the hens broke off from the group around him and approached them. Sarah and Martha both watched them a bit apprehensively. They circled the two earth women repeatedly, their downy eyebrows furrowing more with each circuit.

"We are sorry," one of them finally said. "But we do not know how to make you look presentable."

Sarah and Martha looked at each other, eyebrows raised, then couldn't help laughing.

"Oh, leave them alone, then!" Galindor crowed. "They're aliens! Let them be as they are. That is what the people want to see!"

"S'pose we could try to make ourselves up," Martha said, glancing at the products littering the shelf in front of the mirrors, then getting off her stool and rummaging in them.

"We'll look just as odd to them either way," Sarah said, but then she joined Martha in her explorations.

When they went before the cameras, they undoubtedly still looked like alien creatures to the audience, but they assured each other they were presentable. Galindor asked them about their arrival in the disaster zone and their work there, then had many questions about the Earth and how they came to be on their moon.

"And how did you learn our language?" Galindor asked. "Have your people been secretly living among us and studying us?"

Sarah laughed. "Oh no. We were just on our way home from lunch when we picked up your distress signal. Our ship translates for us."

"Your ship? The one that is buried under the mudslide?"

Sarah's estimation of Galindor went up a notch. He obviously did his homework. "Yes. But the mud doesn't block her translation signals, fortunately."

He tipped his head from side to side and his crest rose and fell. "We are recording for later broadcast to the home world. Will your ship's translation device work at such a distance, and in a recording?"

Sarah and Martha looked at each other blankly, then shrugged. "No idea. We'd have to ask the Doctor about that."

"Crefungal!" Galindor cried, and a harried-looking individual with much smaller and plainer feathers ran up. "Be sure to make a transcript and be prepared to caption our transmission."

"Yessir," Crefungal said, bobbing his head and running off.

"The Doctor," Galindor said, turning back to his guests. "That is your..."

"Other travelling companion," Sarah interrupted before she could find out how the TARDIS might translate whatever word he had been planning to use. "Yes."

"And he too is from your home world?"

Sarah glanced at Martha. "He is now," she answered. They had decided on the way over that it would be best not to mention that the Doctor was a Time Lord if they could possibly avoid it.

Galindor did not pursue that line of questioning, but went back to asking about the Earth, until another less flamboyant creature waved a flag in front of the camera and squawked "Complete!" at which point everyone mobbed the stage, bobbing their heads at Sarah and Martha and--some timidly, some more boldly--jockeying for position close to them.

Their next interview went much the same, only their interviewer this time sported flashy blue and gold plumage and a matching strappy kilt. After lunch, they were guests on a longer program with a medical theme where their interviewer was, for the first time, a hen. Her plumage was a somber brown, but still much more luxuriant than the hens they had met in the pool and in the hospital. Sarah had to explain how she had given CPR to the chick, and then had to demonstrate on a chick doll.

"I never felt so self conscious about having a mouth," she said quietly to Martha afterwards.

They discussed how the technique might be adapted, using a device to simulate human lips, to the purposes of a beaked species, and the show wound up with a surprise appearance of the very chick that Sarah had saved. The mother hen was embarrassingly effusive in her gratitude, as were all of her other, older chicks, who accompanied her and who flocked around Sarah Jane in a show of thanks.

When they finally arrived back at their quarters, Sarah realized it had started to feel like home. Even more so when they stepped through the door to the smell of food cooking, and the sight of the Doctor, wearing one of the strappy kilts over his regular clothes as an apron, playing chef.

"There they are!" he cried exuberantly, running to greet them, his eyes wide and overly excited. "You're those aliens I saw on TV! Can I have your autographs?" he said, looking at them a bit too breathlessly.

They laughed. "What should we autograph?" Sarah asked Martha. She gave the Doctor a sidelong glance. "His forehead?"

"I wasn't thinking of a body part," he said, dropping the overly enthusiastic fan act.

"Well, we don't have a scrap of paper and I haven't held a pen in my hand since Earth, so..."

She didn't get to finish her sentence. The Doctor, with a dazzlingly happy grin, picked something up off the chair seat, where the table had hidden it, and handed it to her. "You could use this," he said softly.

Sarah looked at it, then opened it, flipped through the pages, closed it again, then touched the cover gently, almost in disbelief. It was a notebook. The cover was bound in fabric of blues and greens, as shimmeringly beautiful as Galindor's kilt and even more ornately embroidered. The pages were blank. They didn't feel quite like paper, but they obviously were meant to be written on, as a writing implement was attached by a loop to the inside of the cover.

"Oh. Doctor," she breathed, looking again at the dazzling cover and running her fingers over it. Then she looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears of joy. "You have no idea..."

"Yes I do," he said gently, smiling down at her. "Sarah Jane without her notebook is just unthinkable. On any planet."

Still clutching the beautiful gift, she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

"And this is for you, Martha," she heard him say. She loosened her grip on him and took a step back so he could pick up a second package from the chair seat and hand it to his other companion.

It was a case made of another richly embroidered fabric. Martha opened it and pulled out a stethoscope. Her eyes glowed as she looked from it to him with a dazzled smile.

"You said you liked the local design, right?" he asked.

"Oh, yes! Much better than ours. Thank you!" She hugged him, and Sarah could almost have sworn she saw his hair rise and fall with pleasure. She shook her head, laughed at herself, and decided she'd spent too much time among the locals today.

"Sit, sit, sit," the Doctor said, urging them toward the table as he hurried into the kitchenette. They sat and he came back to the table with a stack of three small bowls in one hand and a large serving bowl heaped high with food in the other. "Hope you like it. Rohstan stocked this kitchen with an amazing variety of herbs and spices. Tried to pick the ones I thought human tastebuds would appreciate." He dished up his creation into the three serving bowls, handed one to each woman, then stripped off his kilt apron, tossed it at the unused chair, and sat. He spooned up a bite of food and sniffed it appreciatively then chowed down with enthusiasm.

"Presents and dinner?" Martha looked at the food in her bowl, stirred it around a bit, then threw a glance at Sarah.

Sarah caught the glance and rolled her eyes in response. She, too, stirred the food around in the bowl, looking at it closely. "I was wrong before. This place is having a good influence on you," she said, smiling, as the Doctor looked up at her.

"Well, it's a man's job to cook, here," he said. "Didn't want to shirk my duty. Besides, figured you two would be hungry after a long day out."

Sarah gamely took a spoonful, then peered at it, eyebrows furrowed. "Did you put mealworms in it?"

"Just think of them as shrimp," he said around a big mouthful.

Sarah and Martha both took slow, reluctant bites and chewed experimentally.

"Mmmm," Martha purred with a too-bright smile. The Doctor beamed and looked at Sarah.

"Mmmm," she echoed Martha, eyes wide. Then she couldn't help it. Her nose wrinkled and she swallowed hard.

"You don't like it." he said, crestfallen.

"No, no, I do," she hastened to assure him. "The flavor's wonderful. It's just...the texture. Takes a bit of getting used to."

"You mean the mealworms?" He took another big bite and munched happily.

She nodded. "The...creamy center..." She tried not to grimace at the memory. "Bit hard to take."

"Well. Just eat around them. Plenty of other good stuff in there," he said cheerily.

He asked them about their day, and they happily talked instead of eating, telling him all about their adventures in alien TV. Before long, though, he noticed their bowls were still full. "You don't like it," he said again, sounding more convinced of the truth of his statement this time..

"Erm, well..." Martha said.

"It's not that." Sarah took up where Martha left off. "It's just..." The two women exchanged "how-do-we-tell-him?" glances.

"We're not very hungry," Martha said gently.

"No?" the Doctor said, pulling one of his crushed-little-boy faces.

"It was really sweet of you," Sarah hurried to assure him.

"Oh, absolutely," Martha chimed in, nodding enthusiastically. "It's just that..."

"...we were eating all day." Sarah finished the sentence for her. She blew out an audible breath. "Everywhere we went. Food."

The Doctor looked at her, then at Martha, with eyebrows up. Martha answered his look with a nod. "Big snack table at the studio. Galindor made us try everything."

"And watched us eat.."

"...so he could see our reaction." Martha laughed, remembering.

"Then they took us to lunch, and then more snacks in the afternoon."

"And tomorrow will probably be the same."

"Tomorrow?" he asked.

"Fully booked. Could be for the next month if we were going to be here."

"Everyone wants to play hostess to the aliens!"

He chuckled. "You're the social catch of the season, eh?"

"Galindor even wants to take us to the home world to show us around."

"To show us off," Sarah corrected her.

"That too," Martha agreed.

The Doctor's amusement vanished and was replaced by a concerned frown. "I'd rather you not go off-world. At least, not without me."

Sarah grinned and raised one eyebrow. "Oh, all of this is pending your approval, of course."

"Of course," Martha echoed, sounding subservient and looking anything but.

The Doctor chuckled, his good humor restored. "You have my permission," he proclaimed grandly. "And if you really want to visit their home world, I'll go with you."

"But you'd rather not," Sarah said, reading his tone and his expression. He gave her a lopsided grin and shook his head. "You'd rather stay here and work with Rohstan."

He nodded. Then he put down his spoon and looked at her, his brown eyes practically glowing. "Sarah. Do you remember, last time, when you saw me off, telling me to work on finding a way humans could regenerate?"

She laughed softly. "Yes. But I'm surprised you do. You said that's been years ago for you."

He nodded again. "And most of that time, I was doing just that."

"What?"

"Researching regeneration."

"Really?" she said softly.

He nodded. "I combed the universe looking for other species that regenerated. Or any scientists who were researching anything related to regeneration." His face grew serious as he went deeper into his memories. "Ransacked the library. And the TARDIS data banks." He lapsed into silence.

"And?" Sarah asked gently.

He looked up at her, and his eyes grew bright again as a grin split his face from ear to ear. "And I think Rohstan's on the track of it."

"You didn't find him before?"

He shook his head. "Big universe. And he hasn't published any results." He looked thoughtful. "Well. Doesn't have any results to publish yet. But the theory. It's all there." Sarah could feel the warmth of his gaze, and his impossibly big grin grew even bigger. "How would you like to be able to regenerate?" He tore his eyes from Sarah's long enough to look at Martha, then locked eyes with Sarah again.

Sarah thought. Then she laughed softly. Then she sobered and thought some more. "What's it like?" she finally asked.

"Regenerating?"

She nodded. "I never asked. Didn't know if it was something you would be comfortable talking about."

He dismissed her concerns with a quick twist of his lips. "Doesn't bother me. You mean, the actual process? Or having different bodies?"

"Both," she said after a moment's thought. She glanced over at Martha, saw the younger woman listening with rapt attention and furrowed brows.

The Doctor took a deep breath, his eyes focussing on memory rather than on her. "Well. The process. That varies a lot, depending."

"Depending on what?"

"Lots of things. Mostly what triggers it." He took a deep breath before continuing. "I've only regenerated from natural causes once. That was..well...it was my first time, didn't really know what to expect, but...it wasn't bad. Bit odd. But...peaceful."

"And the other times?"

"Erm. Rougher. In varying degrees." His eyes lost some of their excited luster, then grew haunted. He shook his head sharply and blew out a breath. "But they were all traumatic. And premature." Sarah saw his jaw muscles bunching. "Extremely premature."

"Wait, let me catch up here," Martha said, sounding a bit exasperated. "I mean, I know you told me that when you're about to die, you change." She turned to Sarah. "And I know you said you've seen him do it." Sarah nodded, and Martha turned back to the Doctor. "You're saying you've done this more than once?"

He nodded. "Nine times, actually."

"And only the first time was natural causes?" He nodded again, and she went on. "So what does that mean? Old age?" She said it with a sarcastic twist to her voice, and her jaw dropped when he nodded. "You died. Of old age."

"Once, yeah," he said.

"And the other times?"

"Martha," Sarah interceded. "It's obviously not..."

"No, Sarah, it's alright," he interrupted her. "One was forced. By the Time Lords."

"What?" Sarah asked sharply. He nodded. "Why?"

He rubbed his chin ruefully. "They didn't like some things I'd done." He sighed. "That was a rough one. Had a lot of life left in that second body."

"Had a lot of life left in your third body, too," Sarah said.

He nodded. "I think that's what makes for a hard regeneration. If you've actually used up the body, the change happens easier, and goes more smoothly."

"So, is that why you were a bit..erm...confused after you regenerated?" Sarah asked.

He nodded, then laughed. "You think that was confused." He shook his head. "Should have seen me after the next one."

Sarah didn't really want to hear any more about rough regenerations he'd suffered through, so she changed the subject.. "Do you get any say in what the new body looks like?"

He smiled. "Me? I just take pot luck. Can't you tell?" He lifted an eyebrow at her.

"Now you're fishing," she said, giving him an amused, affectionate look.

"A friend of mine, though," he went on. "Time Lady. She could choose. If she didn't like how a regeneration turned out, she'd just change again." He shook his head, marvelling at the memory of Romana. "Never could manage to learn her technique."

"But if humans could regenerate. It would probably be pot luck too?"

He smiled fondly at her. "Who's to say? Maybe if you regenerate while looking at a picture of your favorite movie star, your body will take a hint and change into her."

She chuckled and took a moment to wonder what body she'd select if she had the choice. "And what is it that makes you think that Rohstan's research will let humans regenerate?"

Oooh, sorry I asked that question, she thought five minutes later. She'd written a good few technical scientific stories in her day and was undoubtedly well above the general public in her understanding of science. But compared to a Time Lord's knowledge--a Time Lord who was immensely enthusiastic about his subject, highly energetic and, well, not to put too fine a point on it, had quite a gob? It was all she could do to keep her eyes from glazing over and to keep nodding occasionally when he slowed down to take a breath. And with his respiratory bypass system, that wasn't too often. She wondered how much Martha's medical training was helping her to understand the details of Rohstan's research, and glanced over at the girl. She was listening earnestly, but Sarah thought she detected a slight glaze in her big brown eyes.

"Can we move this conversation into the bedroom?" Sarah interrupted him to ask. "These seats really aren't desiged for comfort. My tailbone is protesting."

Martha grinned. "That's because you don't have any tail feathers to cushion it."

They cleared the table quickly as the Doctor continued to regale them with the details of Rohstan's research, then adjourned to the bedroom, where Sarah gratefully sank into the soft cushion on top of the bed. She pulled her legs up and sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed, while Martha draped herself gracefully across the cushion closer to the head of the bed.

The Doctor stood, still talking a mile a minute, hands waving periodically to illustrate a point. After a moment, he leaned back and braced his shoulders against the wall, then put one foot up on the perch that was right behind his feet. Looks like he's at the pub, one foot up on the rail, waiting for the next pint and rabbiting on about the day's football match, Sarah thought, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards. Then he bent forward, pulled his other foot up on the perch, hunkered down and rested his forearms on his knees, his elbows sticking out to the sides, all the while continuing to expound on regeneration research.

She took it as long as she could. Really she did. But he did look so like a big bird, perching, his wings out to the sides and flapping occasionally, that she finally had to laugh.

That interrupted his flow of words. "What?" he said, looking up at her.

"Nothing," she said, trying to swallow the next laugh. "Go on."

He frowned at her suspiciously. "What's so funny?" he asked.

The laugh escaped her attempts to confine it. "You're...perching," she pointed out.

He frowned down at himself, realized the image he was presenting and laughed. Then he looked up her, widened his eyes as far as they would go, tipped his head backwards, flapped his elbows, and gave a raucous caw.

"Oh dear," Sarah said, laughing. He cawed again, then stepped down from the perch, and, still flapping, came toward her.

She leapt off the bed. "Run for it, Martha! He's gone native!" she called out, grinning, and took off for the kitchen.

He was on her in three strides, swooped her up under one arm, then turned back to the bedroom where he chased Martha down, all the while with Sarah as his willing prisoner. Martha made a token effort to escape, but he swooped her up under his other arm, then threw himself and his captives backwards onto the bed, where they all dissolved in laughter.


	6. Chapter 6

The Doctor slid his arms out from under Sarah and Martha and stood up, still chuckling, then straightened his clothes and finger-combed his wild hair into a semblance of order. He looked down at them with a fond smile. "Can you two manage without me for a few more hours?" he asked.

Martha sat up, while Sarah just propped herself up on one elbow. "It will be a challenge," Sarah answered. "But I think we're up to it."

"Where are you off to at this hour?" Martha asked.

"Told Rohstan I didn't need a lot of sleep, so he gave me the codes to the lab and said I could have free run of the place."

He's really serious about this, Sarah thought, seeing the determination in his eyes. "Go on, then," she said, smiling. "Find us a way to cheat death."

He gave her a crooked smile. "Will do." He glanced at Martha, gave her a slight nod, then strode out of the room.

Sarah rolled back down off her elbow and lay flat on the bed. She heard the door open and close and sighed. Yes, they'd manage without him. Like they managed without the sun at night. Like they managed without the warm green of summer in the bleak cold of winter. Like they managed...

"Sarah." Martha's soft, hesitant voice broke into her thoughts. "Who are you to him? Really."

She rolled her head to the side to look at the younger woman. "You asked me that before. The answer's still the same. Really." Martha's troubled expression didn't change. "Why?"

Martha shook her head slowly. "He's so different with you."

Sarah rolled back up on her elbow to give Martha her full attention. "In what way?"

"He's never done anything like that before with me," Martha said, obviously referring to the Doctor's recent bout of playfulness.

"Oh, that." Sarah chuckled. "He just doesn't know you that well yet. And he's really excited about this research."

Martha shook her head again. "No. It's more than that. When you're around, he's...well. He's happy."

Sarah felt as if something had punched her in the solar plexus, something big and hard that nearly knocked the wind out of her. "Oh Martha," she said softly, hoping against hope that she had misunderstood. "He's not happy with you?"

Martha started to shake her head, stopped and thought a moment, then went back to shaking her head. "Sometimes. Almost. Like, when he defeated the Carrionites. Or when the sun thing let go of him. Yeah, he was happy about that. Well. Maybe relieved would come closer." She thought a moment and smiled. "Actually, the happiest I've ever seen him was when Queen Elizabeth was screaming at him and her archers were shooting at us."

Sarah had to laugh. "Sounds like him."

Martha laughed with her for a second, then sobered. "Most of the time, though. He's...well...." She looked up at Sarah, almost apologetically. "He can be a bit tetchy."

Sarah smiled. "We humans do try his patience at times. Myself not excepted."

Martha acknowledged her comment with a glance, then looked down at her hands. "It's more than that though. Some of the things he does. The way he acts. It's like..." She paused, and her voice was softer when she continued. "Like he's suicidal."

This time, Sarah really did feel her breath go out of her. "Why do you say that?" she finally asked, hearing the tremor in her own voice.

Martha blew out a breath. "Well, when he stands in front of a Dalek and pounds his chest and screams 'Kill me!' it doesn't take a psychiatrist to make that diagnosis."

"He did that?" Sarah said, horrified. Martha nodded. "Oh, God." Sarah sat up and ran her fingers through her hair. "I never should have sent him away." She stood, tucked her hands in her armpits, and paced to the end of the bed and back. "But he was better. I know he was."

"You sent him away?" Martha asked.

"Long story," Sarah said shortly, head down and pacing.

"I've got time."

Sarah stopped and looked at the other woman. "It's going to sound silly."

"Try me."

Sarah took a deep breath. "Last time I saw him. We decided we wanted to grow old together." She saw the younger woman's face fall, but went on. "Given our different lifespans, the only way we could do that is if he went away for long periods of time between visits." She started pacing again. "I'd never have let him go if I'd thought he'd fall back into self-destruct mode."

"He's been like this before?"

Sarah nodded. "After he lost Rose. You know about Rose?"

"A little."

Sarah sighed. "And you know about the time war?"

"When his planet was destroyed?"

Sarah nodded. "He doesn't talk about it beyond that. But I met Rose. And from what I've pieced together from the little he's told me, I think she's the first thing he let himself care about after the war. She's the one who saved him. Pulled him out of the dark place the war left him in."

"He really loved her," Martha said softly, halfway between a statement and a question.

Sarah nodded. "And she really loved him." She stopped pacing and gave Martha a crooked grin. "How could she help it?"

Martha ducked her head, then laughed ruefully. "How long have you known?"

Sarah smiled. "Since about ten minutes after we met." She held out a hand. "Welcome to the club."

Martha looked at the proffered hand a moment, then chuckled and shook it. "Women Who Love Time Lords?"

"One specific Time Lord," Sarah amended.

"So." Martha brought the conversation back to the Doctor. "He lost Rose. And that put him right back where he was before he met her."

"Worse," Sarah said. "She'd shown him the light again. Given him back a reason to live. And then she was gone."

"So it was even darker."

Sarah nodded. "He fell back into my life--literally--half-killed by a pack of Judoon when he was racketing around the universe on his own, not caring if he lived or died."

"Judoon?" Martha asked, sounding shocked.

Sarah nodded. "Why? Have you met one?"

"One? A whole platoon! That was the first time I met the Doctor."

"Really! What do they look like?"

Martha thought for a second. "Like a Hell's Angel collided with a rhinoceros and what climbed up out of the wreckage was a Judoon."

"Ew," Sarah said, screwing up her face.

"They took my whole hospital to the moon. Don't you remember? It was all over the news."

"When was that?"

Martha told her, and Sarah grinned. "Hasn't happened yet."

Martha gave her a wide-eyed look. "Oops."

"I'll try to forget."

"Just stay away from the Royal Hope Hospital on that day."

"Oh, for sure," Sarah said, giving a moment's thought to the time paradoxes that would involve. She shook her head. "Too timey-wimey for me."

"So, why did you think he was better?" asked Martha, bringing the conversation back to the Doctor again.

"Oh. Well. He spent a couple of months at my place, recuperating. And then he took Harry and me on a trip in the TARDIS. And, well, he just seemed his old self again. Or his new self." She thought a minute. "Well. Not entirely. But he seemed...better. It all was still there, in his eyes. He'll never be his old self," she added softly, admitting it to herself for the first time. "He's been through too much. But he was handling it better, as if he'd come through the worst of it and was steady on his feet again and ready to move forward."

"Maybe he was," Martha said softly. "But then when he got off on his own again, he started brooding about it, and..."

Sarah nodded. "I hoped he would find someone to travel with right away. Not years down the line."

Martha gave her an incredulous look. "And you're not the least bit jealous?"

Sarah shook her head. "How could I be? I can't be with him all the time. I've got, what, maybe thirty years left, if I'm lucky? Not all of which I'd be in any shape to go gallivanting around the universe with him? And he's got hundreds of years left to live. Maybe thousands."

"Well."

Sarah pursed her lips. "Yes. Well. If he doesn't manage to throw them away. Or convince a Dalek to do it for him."

They sat in a preoccupied silence for long moments, thinking about the Doctor. Then Martha gave Sarah a quick, curious glance, followed by a bashful smile.

"What?" Sarah asked.

"Nothing. Not my place..."

Sarah's eyebrows flicked down. "Go ahead. Whatever it is. You can ask." She sighed. "Martha, I know what it's like, not having anyone to talk to about the Doctor and the experiences you have with him. If I hadn't had Harry to talk to, I don't know what would have become of my sanity. So. Fire away." She smiled warmly.

"Well." Martha rolled her eyes self-consciously. "Did you ever...you know..." She let the question hang in the air.

Sarah laughed softly, thought for a moment, then laughed again. "OK, that's one Harry and I never discussed," she admitted. She sighed. "When I first met the Doctor, I was younger than you are now. And he was, well, looked older than I am now. So it wasn't like that with us. He was the ultimate fantasy father figure that I'd dreamed of ever since I was old enough to realize other kids had fathers and I didn't." Martha looked at her quizzically, so Sarah explained. "My parents were killed when I was a baby. My Aunt Lavinia raised me. Maiden aunt, as they used to call them. So no men in the picture."

Martha nodded her understanding. "Hard to imagine him looking fatherly."

Sarah smiled at the remembered image of her first Doctor. "Ask him to show you his photo album some time." She thought a moment, then gave Martha a direct look. "Mind, he was still dead sexy."

Martha gave a shocked laugh. "Not entirely fatherly, then?"

Sarah shook her head. "Oh no. And when he regenerated, the new body was considerably younger looking. Not as young as the current edition, but definitely less fatherly."

"So. Then. Did you...?" Martha raised her eyebrows suggestively and again let the question hang.

Sarah gave her an enigmatic smile. "He's an alien, Martha."

"Like I don't know that?" Martha cried.

"Your head knows it. Has it told your heart?"

"So I shouldn't love him? Because he's an alien?"

"Not what I'm saying at all. Just. Don't expect human love from him."

"But. You love him. You said so."

"More than life," Sarah said, and was shaken with surprise at how good it felt to be able to say it out loud to someone. "But I know who he is. And that's who I love. Not someone I wish he could be." She looked into the younger woman's troubled brown eyes and willed her to listen.

****

Sarah didn't even hear the door open and close behind her.

"Didn't expect to find you still up," the Doctor said softly, standing next to her and gently stroking her hair.

She looked up from her new notebook and smiled at him. "Had a lot of catching up to do."

"So I see. Martha?"

"Went to bed. Erm..." She flipped through the pages of her notebook. "About thirty pages ago."

He chuckled, then stepped into the kitchenette and poured himself a tumbler of fruit drink. He held the pitcher aloft and questioned her with his eyebrows.

"Sure. Thanks," she said, and he poured a second tumbler, brought it over to the table, and set it down in front of her.

He sat down in the chair next to her and sipped his drink, watching her write. When she finished her sentence, she looked up at him.

"Thanks again for the notebook. It's the most beautiful thing I've seen in ages. Almost hated to spoil it by writing in it."

"Got over that, I see." He smiled. "Good to see you enjoying it," He took another sip of his drink. "You know, I can't take all the credit for it."

She furrowed her brows at him. "Who then? Father Christmas?"

He shook his head. "All I did was mention to Rohstan that you were a writer, and you were missing the tools of your trade, and in half an hour one of his assistants appeared with the notebook."

Sarah stared at her beautiful notebook, sorting out how she felt about this bit of news.

"Not only that." He closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "And please don't ever tell this to Martha. But the stethoscope was totally his idea."

Sarah's lips curled up into a reluctant smile. "He must have more than one hen."

"Four." The Doctor held up four long fingers to illustrate the point. "And one of them works at the hospital and happened to overhear Martha saying how much she liked the design of their stethoscopes."

"Lucky for you."

He nodded. "Very." He took another sip of his drink. "Does that sound like something an evil scientist would do?" he asked softly.

"I got the message. You don't need to underline it," she said, a smile softening her words. "I'll try to keep an open mind about him." Then she stretched mightily, arching her back, arms up, fingers splayed. "I really should..."

"Sarah," he interrupted, looking at her with a worried frown. "What happened to your hand?"

Startled, she looked at him, then at the palm of her right hand. Four slightly red marks were still visible, with a tiny amount of scabbing in the few places where Galindor's talons had barely broken her skin. "Nothing. Just scratches."

"Just scratches?" His frown deepened as he took her hand and inspected the marks. "When did this happen? What did this?"

The level of worry in his voice disconcerted her. "Erm. The... Galindor. The fellow who interviewed us." The Doctor raised horrified eyes to her. "It was an accident. He doesn't even know he did it."

The Doctor looked almost dazed with fear. "Did Martha treat it?"

"Treat it? Doctor. It's just scratches." He still stared at her, brown eyes dark with concern. "I washed it. It's fine."

"Come with me," he said abruptly. She stood and followed him, having very little choice in the matter as her hand was still firmly in his grip.

He led her to the bathroom, where he let go of her hand, pulled his glasses out of his inside pocket and slipped them on, then quickly began inspecting the contents of the medicine cupboard. He unscrewed the lid of a jar, peered at the contents, sniffed them, then dabbed a little on his fingertip and tasted it. He pulled a face, then replaced the lid, put the jar back, and repeated the process with half a dozen more jars and phials. When he got to a large pot of black salve, he tasted it once, then twice, then called her over.

"Give me your hand," he said, and she obliged. He took a generous dollop of the black, tarry substance on his finger and gently began to smear it over her palm.

She would have protested, but he clearly wasn't in a mood to argue, or even to be reasoned with. She watched him intently, but he was so focussed on her hand that he seemed not to even be aware there was anything else to her.

"OK, just hold that there," he finally said, releasing her hand and reaching back into the medicine cupboard.

When he pulled out bandages, Sarah had to say something. "Doctor. You are seriously overreacting here. What's wrong?"

"Overreacting?" He placed a gauze pad on her palm, then started wrapping it with a roll of bandage material. "What if his talons had been poisoned? What if an alien bacterium had set in? Something you have no defense against?"

"Well," she said, watching him wrap her hand. "It would have been bad, I suppose. But it obviously didn't happen."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better? That I lucked out and didn't get you killed?" He looked into her eyes and she felt herself reeling with the intensity of his emotions.

"Killed?" He didn't answer, just ripped the bandage material and tucked the torn end under what was already wrapped around her hand to hold it in place. "Doctor. You are frightening me. What's wrong?"

The genuine fear in her voice seemed to break through whatever it was that was driving him. He took one long ragged breath, then another, then looked at her again, his eyes still distraught but calmer. "I must be insane. To take such fragile creatures out into the universe."

She searched his eyes, looking for what might have prompted his statement so she could respond to the root cause of his distress, and not the symptom. "You've been doing it for a long time."

That wasn't the right thing to say. He ran his fingers frantically through his hair, as he lost the composure he'd just rewon for himself. "Yeah. And people have been dying because of it for a long time."

"Is that what this is about?" she said, reaching her unbandaged hand out to him and running it down his arm, trying to soothe him. "Because yes, I remember a lot of people dying when I travelled with you. But I remember more who lived because of you."

He again took a deep ragged breath and visibly pulled himself together. "Good," she said. "More deep breaths." He hung his head, following her advice and taking in deep, calming breaths, then looked up at her, his eyes nearly back to normal. "Good," she said again. "Now come with me." She took his hand and led him back to the table and sat him down, then heated up some of the fruit drink and set it in front of him. "It's not tea, but it will have to do." He laughed, very reluctantly, but still it was a laugh, and best of all, it was his laugh. "That's better," she said. "Now. In your own time. Tell me what just happened."

He wrapped both hands around the hot tumbler and just held it for a minute. She saw his shoulders sag, saw the tension flow out of his pose. He took a sip of the hot liquid, then put the tumbler down. "I went straight off the deep end when I saw you were hurt. That's what happened."

"That part I know," she said softly. He sipped at the hot drink again, and was silent for so long she thought she'd lost him. But finally, he started speaking, so quietly she could hardly hear him.

"Just before we came here. Well. Before we came to your place. We answered a distress call. From a spaceship." He fell silent again.

"Martha mentioned that. She said it got rough," she said gently.

He snorted. "Rough. Yeah. Very rough for the crew. Only two survived."

"And how many would have survived if you hadn't been there?" she asked, just as softly as she possibly could, not wanting to set him off again.

He just sat, staring into nothingness for a moment. "Probably none," he finally said.

She waited, feeling in her heart that there had to be more, more than just the usual death and destruction that somehow seemed destined to be so much a part of his life.

"I was possessed," he said when he finally spoke again. "By a sun. A living sun. I couldn't fight it. I tried." He squeezed his eyes shut tightly. "Blimey, I tried. I tried with everything that's in me. And it won. It just beat me. If I had even looked at Martha, I would have killed her. Vaporized her. Instantaneously. And I couldn't fight it. The only reason she's alive right now is that she was at the far end of the ship, pulling my bacon out of the fire. Almost literally." He rested an elbow on the table and sat, head in hand, fingers entwined in his hair. "I have never felt so utterly out of control. So completely unable to protect someone. And I was the one she needed protection from the most." He held up his free hand and she saw tremors running through it. "I'm still shaking just thinking about it."

"I see that," she said.

"So, if I overreacted a bit," he said, nodding toward her hand. "And I...may have. That's probably why." He looked at her, his eyes tired. "If anything happened to you Sarah. Ever. But especially on my watch. I couldn't bear it."


	7. Chapter 7

"Wakey wakey!"

Sarah Jane moaned, rolled over, and pressed her face into the super-soft surface of the bed cushion. "Go away," she grumbled.

"Not a chance. Places to go, people to see. Unless you want to sleep away your time on an alien planet. I could give everyone your regrets, I suppose."

Sarah sat up and peered at Martha through slitted eyes. "Are you always this cheerful in the morning?"

"Sometimes moreso."

"Oh, preserve us," Sarah said, running her fingers through her sleep-mussed hair and trying to wake up.

"Well, if you will stay up half the night writing..." Martha started. Then she frowned. "What happened to your hand?"

Sarah blinked blearily at her bandaged right hand. "The Doctor happened." Martha gave her a quizzical look and Sarah frowned thoughtfully. "He noticed those scratches that Galindor made and went off."

Martha sat on the edge of the bed. "What do you mean, 'went off'?"

"Acted as if I'd been attacked by an ax murderer."

Martha frowned. "That doesn't sound like him."

"I know." Sarah suddenly woke up enough to look around and wonder if he were within earshot.

"He's gone already." Martha answered her look. "Off to the lab with Rohstan."

Sarah yawned and stretched. "Wish I could get by on as little sleep as he can." She looked at her hand again and started unwinding the bandages.

"Here, let me," Martha said, taking over. "Easier with two hands." She inspected Sarah's palm once the bandages were off. "Looks good as new. Maybe that will reassure him."

Sarah shook her head. "It wasn't the scratches. They were just...oh, like a trigger that set him off."

Martha frowned, and cocked her head, encouraging Sarah to continue.

"How did he invite you to travel with him?" Sarah asked. Martha looked surprised at the question. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry. It's just that he was talking last night as if he didn't trust himself to keep a human companion alive. If he felt that way when he met you, I'm surprised he asked you along."

Martha just stared at her for a moment. "Oh, that explains so much," she finally said. Sarah urged her on with raised eyebrows. "He didn't invite me to travel with him. Not really. He said it was just one trip. As a thank you. For saving his life."

"You did that?"

"Suppose so. Although I don't know how."

Sarah laughed. "You'd better tell me the whole story."

"This alien vampire thingy--he called it a plasmavore--sucked his blood."

"All of it?" Sarah asked, horrified.

"Just about," Martha said. "Enough to kill him, anyway."

"Oh, Martha," Sarah said, feeling her heart twist at the thought. "What did you do? Give him an emergency transfusion?" Then she laughed at her own suggestion. "Right, like you had Time Lord blood in the fridge at the Royal Hope."

"I gave him CPR."

"And he responded? Came back to life?" Martha nodded. Sarah stared at her for a second. "Ah," she finally said. "So, how does CPR bring someone back whose circulatory system has collapsed due to blood loss. That's what you meant by not knowing how you saved his life."

"Exactly," Martha said. "I did it. Because that's what automatically kicked in from my training. And out of desperation, I suppose. He seemed to be the only one with a prayer to save us all. And I...well...I liked him already. But I didn't really expect it to work."

"Thank God it did," Sarah said softly. She looked at the young doctor with new appreciation. "And thank God you were there." She placed a hand on Martha's shoulder. "If he had died..." That sentence didn't bear finishing. Thirty more years of wondering what had happened to him, why he didn't come back. And this time, never knowing. She couldn't bear it, she thought, in unconscious echo of the Doctor's words the night before.

"Sarah? You alright?" Martha's concerned question brought her back out of those dark imaginings, and she shook her head, trying to shake herself free of them.

"So." She got herself back on track. "One trip. As a thank you. How many trips ago was that?"

"Quite a few," Martha laughed. "But it took awhile. He kept saying 'just one more' until I finally put my foot down."

"Good for you," Sarah said softly. "And good for him." She thought again about the night before. "That experience with the sun must have brought it all back to him. All his worries and fears. And just when he decided to chance having company again."

"Not surprising he's so keen on humans being able to regenerate," Martha said.

"Not at all," Sarah agreed.

By this time, Sarah was wide awake and realized she was going to have to hustle if they didn't want to disappoint their first alien hostess. She flew through her morning routine, then hesitated in front of the wardrobe. "Do you suppose they'll be disappointed if we don't show up in our alien gear?" she asked. Thanks to the talented hen seamstresses, she now had a small collection of outfits to choose among and didn't have to wear her Earth clothes every day, for which she was eternally grateful. The hens had obviously taken patterns of all their clothes when they were laundering them initially, because a day later, Rohstan had shown up with new trousers and blouses for her and Martha and a new suit, shirt and tie for the Doctor. They also had each received a set of pajamas--at least, they assumed that was what they were intended to be, as they were cut to the same pattern as their street clothes but a bit looser and in a lighter fabric--and a dressing gown.

Sarah's and Martha's new clothes were in traditional hen colors, but that suited them both. Sarah's soft reddish-brown trouser suit set off her hair and coloring perfectly and Martha was stunning in dark grey. The Doctor's suit was an eye-popping crimson, and the pin-stripes in his regular suit were simulated by shining metallic gold thread that ran up and down the jacket and trousers in perfectly embroidered lines. The shirt was the hottest hot pink Sarah had ever seen, and the tie was a brilliant purple. "Oh, please. At least try it on," they had both begged him after Rohstan had left. They just got the ultimate one-eyebrow-up stare from him, and the remarkable suit hung neglected in their joint wardrobe. Sarah's doubts about whether they were going to be allowed to leave without a fight had been exacerbated by the gift of clothing, but she had to admit she did love it.

"We're alien enough for them," Martha answered. "Wear what you like, I say."

So she did, and they were off on another whirlwind day, being wined and dined, shown the sights, and treated to the best the local culture had to offer. Also being stared at and touched, having their hands repeatedly examined and their hair patted and ruffled, and being asked questions that ranged from logical to insightful to stunningly, jaw-droppingly off-the-wall unanswerable.

They were both tired and again stuffed to the gills when they returned to their quarters at the end of the day.

"Glad he listened to us and didn't cook again," Martha said as they walked into the dark, empty apartment.

"I am going to have to fast the next three days," Sarah said, popping the snap on her trousers and giving a sigh of relief. "Can't wait to see the look on Harry's face when I come back from lunch with the Doctor ten pounds heavier." They both giggled at that thought.

"S'pose he's still at the lab," Martha said wistfully when their laughter died away.

Sarah nodded. "He's a Time Lord on a mission. I don't expect to see much of him for awhile."

The door buzzer went off, and they looked at each other. "Must be him," Martha said, going to answer it.

Sarah frowned. "He wouldn't buzz. He'd just come in."

Martha pulled a "yeah, you're right" face, then opened the door.

Rohstan stood in the doorway. The Doctor was in his arms. Unconscious. Totally limp. His head lolling, eyes closed, one long arm dangling where it had gotten away from Rohstan's grip.

"Oh my God!" Martha cried. Sarah didn't have enough breath to say anything.

Rohstan came through the door, turning sideways to keep from banging the Doctor's head or feet on the doorframe, and carried him to the bedroom, where he placed him on the big bed. He turned to look at them for the briefest of moments, then his eyes flicked down and to the side.

"Care for him," he said in a low voice.

"What happened to him?" Martha ran to the Doctor's side and started loosening his clothes and checking his vital signs.

Rohstan looked deeply uncomfortable at her question. His eyes flicked around the room, landed on Sarah for a split second, then instantly looked away. "Care for him," he repeated. "He is valuable to me."

"Valuable?" Sarah exploded. "Valuable? He is _precious_ to us!"

"Is that not what I said?" Rohstan asked softly. He gave her one more quick flick of his eyes, then strode out of the room.

"Sarah, help me with him," Martha said.

Ten minutes later, Martha had completed her exam. She took her stethoscope's earpieces out of her ears and hung it around her neck, then gave Sarah a worried look. "Both hearts beating. Fast and thready but beating. Respiration shallow and uneven. Not a mark on him."

"What's that?" Sarah said, staring at the Doctor's chest.

Martha turned to look. "What?"

Sarah licked dry lips and kept her eyes focussed on the Doctor. "It's gone now."

"What was it?"

Sarah shook her head. "Like a...sort of a golden light. A glow. Coming...through his skin. Just for a second."

They both sat and watched him breathe for a moment, but the phenomenon didn't repeat itself.

Martha finally broke the silence. "I have no idea what to do for him," she said, a world of frustration and helplessness in her voice. She looked up at Sarah, tightly controlled terror in her brown eyes. "We need to get him to hospital. Maybe they'll know how to treat him."

Sarah put a comforting hand on the young doctor's shoulder. "You know more about him than they would, Martha."

"But...maybe they could diagnose what's wrong. At least give me a place to start."

They heard the door to the apartment open and close and looked up to see Rohstan striding back into the bedroom, this time carrying a black box the size of a large laptop and a bundle of wires. He headed toward the bed.

Sarah and Martha were both instantly between him and the Doctor. "What do you think you're doing?" Sarah asked.

Rohstan didn't look at her, just stared at the Doctor. "I must monitor him."

"Oh, I think you've done enough to him," Martha said, sounding as ferocious as Sarah felt. "You're not getting near him."

"Not without going through us," Sarah confirmed, positioning herself shoulder to shoulder with Martha.

Rohstan shifted uncomfortably on his taloned feet, and Sarah's eyes were drawn to the sharp curved claws on his hands. She had felt the sharpness of similar claws when no harm was intended. What damage could he do to them if he actually meant to hurt them?


	8. Chapter 8

"Let him."

His voice was so soft, barely more than breath, that Sarah wouldn't have heard it if the room had not fallen into such a profound silence as they faced off with Rohstan. She looked down at the Doctor and saw his eyelids at half mast, exhausted brown eyes looking up at her out of dark, bruised pools.

He slowly ran his tongue over his dry lips. "Let him," he breathed again. "Please. S'imp...." His voice trailed off in a whisper of air as his eyes rolled up under drooping lids, his head lolled to the side, and he lapsed back into unconsciousness.

Martha quickly applied the bell of her stethoscope to one side of his chest, then the other. She gave Sarah a small relieved nod.

Sarah let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. She looked at Rohstan, who flicked his eyes at her then looked back at the Doctor. Then she met Martha's eyes.

"Sarah. We can't." The younger woman shook her head vehemently. "He's in no shape to make a decision like that." Her eyes cut toward Rohstan, then looked back at Sarah. "Do you really trust him?"

Sarah stood, willing the right decision to come to her. "No. But I trust him," she finally said, her eyes on the Doctor. She stepped back and out of Rohstan's way.

Rohstan glanced quickly at Martha, then away. After a long moment, she stepped over by Sarah and turned to watch.

Rohstan set the black box on the bed by the Doctor's head and rapidly began connecting wires from it to the Doctor. He placed a sensor on each of the Doctor's temples, one on his throat, one over each heart, and two more paired sets over his solar plexus and on his abdomen. Then he slid a hand under the Doctor and placed a sensor at the base of his skull and three more sets down his back. He rapidly adjusted the black box, twisting dials and punching keys with his talons.

In five minutes, he had apparently completed what he set out to do as he removed the sensors, wound the wires back up into a neat bundle, and strode out of the room without a word to the women.

Martha checked the Doctor again while Sarah went out into the living area of the apartment, brought two of the wooden chairs into the bedroom and placed them by the bed. Then she went back out into the kitchenette, found a pitcher, filled it with water, and carried it and a tumbler back into the bedroom. She set them on one of the chairs.

"What are you doing?" Martha asked her.

"He's going to wake up thirsty," Sarah answered. "I want to be ready."

"How do you know?" It wasn't a challenge, just an honest question.

"Experience," Sarah said shortly. She sat on the second chair and watched the Doctor breathe.

"You've seen him like this before?"

Sarah nodded. "A couple of times." She looked up at Martha. "You haven't?" Martha shook her head. "But you said he'd nearly died twice since you've been with him."

"He did. But he never went down this hard for this long."

"What did he do?" Sarah asked.

Martha shook her head. "Not really sure about the time in the hospital. I passed out from hypoxia. And when I woke up, he was gone. And the hospital was back on earth."

"How much later was that?"

Martha tipped her head back and forth, thinking. "Maybe fifteen minutes."

"And the other time?" Sarah asked.

"He was up and waiting for me when I got back from the far end of the ship." Martha looked at the Doctor. "And I didn't even tell you about the time when the witches stopped his heart," Martha said musingly.

Sarah looked up, eyebrows raised. "Witches?"

"Well. Carrionites, he called them. Aliens."

"And how long did that knock him out for?"

Martha shook her head. "Maybe a tick. By the time I got to him, he was awake. Had me thump him on the chest to get his heart started again and then we were off."

"Oh Martha," Sarah sighed. "I owe you more and more."

"The only thing that really knocked him out--and that was just for a few minutes--was when he was struck by lightning on top of the Empire State Building."

Sarah's chin dropped. "You. Have got. To be kidding."

Martha shook her head, then looked up at Sarah with understanding in her eyes, understanding that quickly turned into deep concern. "Whatever birdman did to him, it must be bad."

Sarah nodded, then went back to watching the Doctor.

Rohstan came in two more times over the next hour, hooked the Doctor up to his black box, twiddled dials, unhooked him and left. Each time, Martha was quick to check him over afterwards.

"Either what he's doing is helping, or the Doctor is just getting better in spite of him," she said after the second time. "His pulses are stronger and slower and his breathing is much deeper and more regular."

"He's a fast healer," Sarah said.

"He needs to be," Martha said, eyebrows up.

Sarah nodded, looking at his pale face. She reached out to push a stray lock of hair off his forehead and saw his eyelids flicker open. He blinked up at her a couple of times and gave her a weak, crooked smile.

"Welcome back," Sarah said softly. He just blinked at her again. "Thirsty?" He licked his lips, swallowed, and nodded.

Martha was already there with a tumbler of water. Sarah slid her hand under his back to help him sit up. He gave an involuntary gasp and flinched away from her touch.

"Oh, God. I'm sorry," she said, jerking her hand away as if she'd touched a live coal.

He sank back onto the bed, breathing raggedly for a minute. "S'okay," he finally whispered. "You didn't know." He closed his eyes and blew out a small breath. "Bit sore."

"Where?" Martha asked.

The Doctor took a few more recovery breaths before he spoke again. "Oh," he finally answered in a small, weary voice. "Everywhere."

"We need a straw," Sarah said, looking around the room as she thought. "Can these people even use straws?"

Martha shrugged. "I'll see if I can find anything that might work," she said, standing up and starting toward the door.

"No." His voice was still soft and rough, but it was gaining strength by the minute. "I can manage." He tried to roll himself up on one elbow. Sarah had to tuck her hands into her armpits to stop herself trying to help him, afraid of hurting him again if she touched him.

He looked up at her. "Just...hold out your hand." She did, and he reached for it. "No gripping. No pulling. Just...stand firm and let me do the work." His eyes asked if she understood and she nodded and braced herself. He wrapped his long fingers around her wrist and pulled himself up onto his elbow, then let go with a sigh of relief. He reached out for the tumbler and quickly, gratefully, drank, then held it out for more. Sarah poured it full again, and he drained it again. Martha took the empty tumbler from him, and he rolled back down onto the bed. "Thanks," he breathed, and his eyelids drifted shut.

Rohstan came back twice more, sticking sensors all over him and taking readings, but then the visits stopped and Sarah decided that he'd either collected all the data he needed or had just packed it in for the night.

She and Martha kept vigil over the Doctor together at first, but as the night dragged on decided they should take watches, turn and turn about. The odds of either of them sleeping were slim, but at least they could lie down and rest. Martha took the first watch, and Sarah stretched out on the far side of the big bed, facing the Doctor, closing her eyes and trying to sleep but finding herself frequently needing to open them and reassure herself he was still there, still breathing. When she noticed Martha yawning and her eyelids drooping, she got up and walked around the bed.

"My turn," she said, and Martha reluctantly gave up her seat and stretched out on the bed. Sarah sat and slid her hand under the Doctor's, not wanting to actually hold it for fear of hurting him, but needing the physical contact with him. She leaned back in the chair, closed her eyes, and composed herself to wait.

A slight pressure on her hand was the first thing that alerted her that he was awake. She opened her eyes and saw him looking up at her with a wan smile.

"Hi," she said softly. His smile grew a tiny bit, his lips parted and he took in a breath as if to respond, but then his eyelids drooped and the breath left him in a soft sigh. Wearily, he mustered his strength and started to give it another go, when Sarah, ever so gently, put a finger on his lips.

"Why don't you just think it to me?" she asked. "Wouldn't that be easier?"

_Oh yes._ She heard his relieved voice in her head. _Thank you._

_Can you hear me?_ she thought.

One side of his mouth curled up a bit further. _ Would take more strength than I can spare at the moment to block you out._

_Sorry_, she thought, feeling rather absurdly embarrassed for thinking too loud.

_I'm not complaining. Makes it easy to talk to you._

They sat in silence--both actual and mental--together for a moment. Then Sarah had to ask the question that was preying on her mind. _What did that man do to you?_

The Doctor rolled his head to the side, avoiding her gaze with a slow blink, and licked dry lips. _Isn't it obvious?_

Her eyes travelled over his ashen face and the dark circles that surrounded his eyes. _The results are. Not what caused them._

_Does it matter?_

He had a point. She didn't want to concede it though. _It could give us an idea of how to treat you._

He shook his head slightly. _Nothing to be done really. Just have to get through it._ He closed his eyes and sighed. _Knew it would be rough. Didn't think it would be quite this bad though._ The thought was so soft Sarah wasn't sure he'd meant for her to hear it. She was sure he hadn't when his next thought came through much more clearly. _So. How do I look?_

Her eyebrows went up. Funny time for vanity, she thought in the most private recesses of her mind, hoping he didn't hear. Then she answered his question. _Pale. Tired. Sick. _

_C'mon Sarah. You know what I mean._

_No I don't_, she assured him, a puzzled frown on her face. _I'm reporting what I see. What are you asking?_

His mental voice came through with a touch of impatience. _What color's my hair?_

Her eyebrows furrowed. _Brown_, she thought in response.

_Oh. Again? Dark or light?_

_Dark._

_And my eyes?_

_Bloodshot._ She got a rather pointed look for that one, so she just shrugged mentally and answered the question. _Brown._

_Again? _ His mental voice was starting to sound frustrated. _Well, what's different? What's changed?_

She stared at him as the penny dropped. _Doctor, are you under the impression that you've regenerated?_

There was a ringing silence inside her head for a moment. _I haven't?_

_Do Time Lords sometimes regenerate into their own twin brothers? _she asked.

He shook his head. _Not that I've ever heard of._

_Then you haven't regenerated._

He looked all around the room restlessly. _I need a mirror._

_I don't think there are any except the one in the bathroom on the wall, _she thought. _ And I don't think you're in any shape to make it there. _ His eyes still looked stormy. _Can't you see yourself through my eyes?_

He shook his head. _I'd have to go into your mind to do that._

_Aren't you there already?_ she asked.

He shook his head again and the corner of his mouth curled up. _No. Just talking._

_Well, come on in. Do I need to shove over or anything?_

She heard a mental chuckle. _No. Plenty of room for me._

_Oh. Are you saying my head's quite empty then? _ Sarah's lips curled in a self-deprecating grin.

_Not at all_, he reassured her. _Just that you keep a very open mind. _

_Well. I try to._ She smiled down at him. _Never know when friends are going to drop by._

And then he was there, somehow beside her, looking out of her eyes with her. It wasn't the first time she'd shared her consciousness with an alien mind. Far from it. She'd been possessed by baddies so many times in the old days it almost became a joke. But this was the first time she'd shared willingly, with a friend.

_Blimey_, he thought. _Sorry I looked._

She gave him a sympathetic mental hug. _Now you know how Martha and I feel._

_Well, no wonder I'm so..._ He trailed off. _I could have sworn I felt it starting. Just before I passed out. _

_Maybe Rohstan stopped whatever it was he was doing to you just then. Afraid he'd lose his test subject. _

She felt a wave of mixed emotions sweep through him at that. Then he quickly changed the subject. _Where is Martha? _he asked.

Sarah looked over at the sleeping form of the young woman, knowing he was seeing what she was seeing. Martha's eyes were closed and her breathing was slow and regular.

_Long day._

_All around,_ he agreed.

Then he was gone. She looked down into his eyes and saw that lively intelligence that had just been sharing her head shining out of them. _Goodness. Lonely in here all of a sudden._

She felt another mental chuckle. _Sorry. Wearing a bit thin. Think I'm going to have to sleep some more._

_Anything I can do? Anything you need? Food? Water? _He shook his head. _Energy?_ His lips curled up in an amused smile. _What? You did it for me. Why can't I do it for you?_

_Because I have considerably more than you. Well. Usually._

_Even a little would help, wouldn't it?_

He compressed his lips, gave her a warm look. _Yes. It would._ He paused, took a deep breath. _Put your hand on my chest._

She started to comply, then stopped, remembering the last time she'd touched him. _I don't want to hurt you._

He nodded. _I appreciate that. Just be gentle._

She lightly rested her hand flat on his chest. He closed his eyes and she felt an energetic tug start in her hand. Then he opened his eyes abruptly and lifted her hand off his chest.

_Fingertips only_, he thought.

She arched her fingers and gently lowered her hand so only the tips were touching him. Again, she felt the tug of energy transfer starting, but again, he abruptly lifted her hand off his chest.

_One finger only._

_Are you winding me up? _ she thought, looking at him with furrowed brows.

_I am trying to accept your kind and generous offer and still keep you safe. Now. One finger._

_Which one?_ she mentally asked with a wry twist to her thought.

He considered for a moment. _Pinky_.

She held out her hand with just her little finger extended and touched its tip to his chest. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

This time, Sarah felt the energy transfer begin in earnest. She relaxed into it, trying to make it as easy for him as possible.

He opened his eyes. _Stop that._

_What? _she asked, confused.

_You know. Let me set the pace. Keep something for yourself._

She wasn't quite sure what she was doing that she was supposed to stop, but apparently she managed it anyway, as he lay quietly for a few minutes, accepting a thin stream of energy from her pinky. Then he lifted her hand off his chest and smiled up at her.

_If I take any more, you're going to need a big nap._

She smiled down at him. _Just as well. Wouldn't sleep for worrying about you otherwise. _ She felt the truth of his words as the effect of the energy drain hit her. _I think I will take a nap. Just let me wake Martha._

He shook his head. _ Please don't. I don't need a vigil kept over me. _

_What if you wake up and need something?_

He gave her an amused look. _We're all in the same bed. I think I could manage to let one of you know._

_Well. If you're sure._

_I am._ He took a long breath and his eyes closed. _Get some rest._

She watched him for another second, then stood up, stepped to the foot of the bed, and crawled up the center between him and Martha. She stretched out on her side, facing him, and was asleep in two ticks.


	9. Chapter 9

Sarah Jane woke up alone in the middle of the big bed. She sat up, ran her fingers through her hair, then scrambled to the edge of the bed, climbed out and headed off in search of her companions.

"Good morning." Martha was the first to see her and so the first to greet her. She and the Doctor were at the table, Martha sitting sideways in her chair, facing the Doctor and the bedroom door. The water pitcher was on the table, a tumbler in front of the Doctor.

"Morning." Sarah returned the greeting. The Doctor turned to look up at her and gave her a welcoming smile. He was still pale, but the dark circles around his eyes had faded to what would be no more than normal for a human who'd had a rough, sleepless night. She started to lay her hand on his shoulder, then remembered and instead rested it on the back of his chair. "How are you?"

He pulled a quick, dismissive "meh" face, then gave her a knowing look. "Sleep well?"

"Extremely," Sarah answered, crossing behind him and sitting down. "I'll know who to call if I ever have insomnia."

Martha's eyebrows furrowed as she looked at them. The Doctor answered her unspoken question. "Sarah gave me a bit of an energy transfusion last night."

Martha's eyes grew wide. "Oh. Do you need more? I'd be happy to...."

The Doctor shook his head. "I'm fine now. Well." He pulled that "meh" face again as they both gave him skeptical looks. "Maybe not quite fine yet. But closer." He picked up his tumbler, peered into it and frowned, then reached out for the pitcher. He poured what little water was left into his tumbler and drank it.

Sarah picked up the empty pitcher, walked over to the kitchenette to fill it, then set it back on the table in front of him.

"He's had three already," Martha said, looking doubtful.

"Glasses?"

Martha shook her head. "Pitchers."

Sarah looked at the Doctor with eyebrows up. "Thirsty," he said succinctly as he poured himself another tumbler of water. Then she saw him shiver, a full-body shiver that made the water in his tumbler dance. The tremor passed and he carried on as if nothing had happened. Sarah glanced round the room and saw his long brown coat draped over the chair at the far end of the table where he'd last tossed it. She stood up and fetched it and draped it around his shoulders.

"What's that for?" he asked, looking up at her.

"You're shivering."

He frowned. "No, I'm not." Then he shivered again. Sarah and Martha both gave him pointed looks. "Oh. That?" Their pointed looks got a bit more pointed. "That's not shivering."

"So, what do Time Lords call it?"

"Shivering indicates you're cold. I"m not cold." He took the coat off and handed it back to Sarah. "I'm just a bit shakey. From being toxic."

Sarah frowned. "Toxic? He poisoned you?"

The Doctor gave her a reproving look. "Not that kind of toxic. Internally toxic."

"From what?" Martha asked.

"What did he do to you?" Sarah asked at the same time.

The Doctor took a few swallows of water, put the tumbler down, and stared at it as he reluctantly answered Martha's question. "I took a lot of cell damage. And the process of tearing down the damaged cells so they can be replaced with new healthy ones generates waste products. Which are making me toxic."

"Happens in humans, too. But I've never heard of anyone going toxic because of cell breakdown and repair," Martha said.

"Well." He crossed his arms, leaned back in his chair, and another bout of shivers ran through him. "Usually happens on a smaller scale. This was pretty extensive." He stopped, and looked bleak. "Comprehensive. No human could have survived it."

"Doctor, what did he do to you?" Sarah asked again, emphatically, frustration raising her voice.

The Doctor played with his tumbler, looking at it intently, avoiding her eyes. "He used a cellular disruptor on me," he finally said.

"What's that?" Martha asked.

"Why?" Sarah asked, horrified, at the same moment.

"Research," he said shortly, answering Sarah's question this time. He glanced up at them each in turn, quickly, then looked back at the tumbler.

Sarah couldn't believe he was going to leave it at that. She stared at him intently but he wouldn't meet her eyes. She looked at Martha, who just reflected her own bafflement and frustration back at her. Then she once again looked at the Doctor who, amazingly, astonishingly, seemed to have said all he planned to say about it.

Sarah wasn't having it. "You get carried back here, half dead, so badly damaged that you thought you'd regenerated, we're sick with worry about you all night, you admit that this...this...birdman that you trusted did this to you, and that's all you have to say? Research?"

"Sarah," he said, still not looking at her, his voice tired. "It's not what you think." He shivered again, and this time he didn't shrug it off but closed his eyes for a moment and took several deep, measured breaths.

"What do you think I think?"

He finally looked up at her with troubled eyes. "That he threatened the two of you to get me to cooperate with his experiments." She raised her eyebrows, and he gave her a faint smile. "I don't have to read your mind to know that. I remember Davros too." He shivered, took a moment to recover. "And I'm telling you, Rohstan is not Davros. Not even close."

"Davros?" Martha asked in a small, lost voice.

"Creator of the Daleks," Sarah answered shortly, still staring at the Doctor.

Martha's eyes went wide. "You met the _creator_ of the Daleks?"

Sarah turned to the younger woman and nodded. "He used Harry and me to get to the Doctor. To make him do something he didn't want to do. Something that would put the entire future of the universe at risk." She looked back at the Doctor, then continued. "And he did it. To save us."

"It's not like that this time, Sarah," he said earnestly.

"Then what is it like?" she fired back. "Tell me."

Just then, the door opened and Rohstan strode in, black box and bundle of wires under his arm. Sarah stood up abruptly, moved to the far side of the table, sat down, leaned back in her chair, crossed her arms, glared at Rohstan and heaved a deep, frustrated sigh.

"Doctor. You are up. I am sorry. I would have buzzed if I had known."

"That's fine, Rohstan," the Doctor assured him. "Please. Sit."

"But you are truly remarkable. To be so much improved. I am most satisfied with this." He put the black box on the table in front of the Doctor and started unwinding the wires.

The Doctor gave him a crooked smile. "Yeah, well. Told you I heal fast."

"Indeed you did. I did not sufficiently credit what you meant by 'fast'." He held up two of the wires, then bobbed a nod at the Doctor. "With your permission."

The Doctor shivered, then nodded. He bowed his head so Rohstan could stick the sensors to his temples, then sat forward on the chair and let his dressing gown fall off around his waist so the other sensors could be attached to his chest and back. Then both he and Rohstan focussed intently on the black box, the Doctor twisting dials with his long, slender fingers while Rohstan tapped keys with his talons.

"Sar..." He looked up, saw Sarah's stormy eyes shooting dark fire at Rohstan, and started over. "Martha, could you get my glasses for me?"

"Sure." Martha jumped up, fetched his glasses out of his jacket pocket, walked over and handed them to him.

"Thanks." He slipped them on and peered at the machine again. "Are the readings you took last night in here?" he asked, frowning with concentration.

"Yes. All of them," Rohstan said.

The Doctor gave him a surprised look. "You took more than one set?" Rohstan nodded. "Brilliant! Let me see them." They both bent over the contraption.

Martha walked back around the table and sat down next to Sarah. "Amazing how we disappear every time he walks into the room, isn't it?" Sarah said bitterly.

"Do you really think..." Martha said softly, glancing at Rohstan.

Sarah nodded. "Yes. I do. Why else would the Doctor let himself be forced into a regeneration he doesn't want or need or have to spare?"

Martha blinked, mulling that over. "Why wouldn't he tell us, though?" She glanced around suspiciously. "Do you think the room's bugged?"

Sarah shook her head. "No. I think he's trying to spare us the guilt. If it weren't for us, Rohstan wouldn't have any leverage over him. Couldn't force him to do this."

Martha frowned. "Never thought about that. God, we are a liability for him, aren't we."

"Fragile humans," Sarah answered. Martha gave her a quizzical look. "Something he said the other night. About being insane to take fragile creatures like us out into the universe."

They looked back over at the Doctor and Rohstan just in time to see the Time Lord shiver again. "Whoa, look at that!" the Doctor cried, fascinated, staring at the readout from his shiver on the machine.

Rohstan looked at him. "Is this a normal part of your healing? These tremors?"

The Doctor looked up from the black box. "Ah. No. Well. In a way." He screwed up his face, looking both hopeful and doubtful at the same time. "You wouldn't happen to have any ginger beer, would you?"

"Ginger beer?" Sarah said, surprised. The Doctor glanced over at her and gave her a quick nod.

"I am not aware of what this is, Doctor," Rohstan responded, ignoring Sarah. "If we have it, it is yours. Please describe it."

The Doctor rubbed his cheek. "It's a beverage. Flavored with a spice. Ginger. That's the spice."

"We have many different beverages and many different spices. I can bring you a selection to see if any resemble this....ginger beer."

The Doctor swallowed hard. "There isn't time for extensive taste testing, I'm afraid."

"Why do you need ginger beer?" Sarah asked, ignoring the fact that she was being ignored.

"To detox," he answered. Her eyebrows shot up. "Plenty of protein and salt here. And I could always rig up something to give myself a shock. But without ginger beer...." He trailed off, looking unhappy.

"Do you have any on the...oh, never mind," she said, remembering the time ship wasn't available.

He answered her anyway. "I always keep a good supply on board, yes." He turned to Rohstan. "Any word on my ship? Have they found her yet?"

Rohstan shook his head. "I fear the markers you put in the mudbank for them may have shifted. I was going to suggest we visit the site again to confirm its location before..." He bobbed his head at the Doctor, indicating his condition. "Once you are fully well again, we can plan to do that."

The Doctor sighed, then nodded. "That would be good, yes."

Sarah gave him a worried frown. "Do you absolutely need ginger beer to do this detox thing?"

He shivered. "No. Just makes it easier." He pulled the sensors off his temples, then removed the one from his throat. "I can manage without. It's just...well....it's not going to be pretty."

"What?" Sarah asked, feeling totally lost. From the look on Martha's face, she was equally at sea with where the conversation had gone.

"Detox," he answered briefly, pulling more sensors off. "Rohstan? I'm going to need a bunch of towels."

"But of course," Rohstan answered. "What color?"

The Doctor gave a small rueful chuckle. "Color doesn't matter. Just..big. And absorbent. And lots of them."

"I'll fetch them now," Rohstan said, suiting his actions to his words and exiting the apartment.

Sarah and Martha walked around the table to help the Doctor remove the rest of the sensors. They couldn't help noticing that the shivers were coming more frequently now and shaking him harder each time.

"Do Time Lords throw up?" Martha asked in a worried tone.

The Doctor looked at her, eyebrows up in surprise. "Only when absolutely necessary. Why?"

She frowned at him. "Because if I saw the look on your face on a human patient, I'd be running for a basin."

He shook his head. "It's the toxins in my system making me feel queasy. Nothing in my stomach. So nothing to throw up."

"That doesn't always stop us humans."

He gave her a puzzled look. "Yeah. I've noticed that. Why do you do that?"

Before she could answer, Rohstan returned with a pile of thick, soft towels. "Will this be enough?"

The Doctor looked at them dubiously. "Maybe."

"I can bring more."

The Doctor gave him a grateful look. "If it's no trouble. That many again should do."

Rohstan bobbed his head, set the towels on the table, and left again. Sarah picked them up. "So. Bedroom?"

He nodded glumly. "I suppose."

"You need help getting there?" He was looking shakier by the minute, losing ground he'd gained overnight.

He shook his head. "I'm fine." He shrugged back into his dressing gown, stood up, wavered a bit and started to tip forward.

Sarah was on the wrong side of him and had her arms full of towels. "Martha!" she cried.

Martha reacted quickly, stepping in front of the Doctor and putting her hands on his shoulders to brace him.

"Well." He leaned into her hands for a second. "Not entirely fine."

Sarah put the towels under one arm and slipped her other arm around his waist. "Come on, tiger. Let's get you better." Martha took up support position on the other side of him, and they started toward the bedroom.

He suddenly stopped. "Why don't you two wait out here?" he said, looking down at them queasily. "I can take care of this by myself."

They exchanged bewildered glances across the front of him. "Doctor. Why would we let you do that?"

He looked miserably at them. "I don't want to put you through this."

Sarah was still perplexed. "The detox?"

He nodded.

"Will it be easier for you if we help?"

He sighed, and didn't answer right away.

"OK, that's clearly a yes." He still stood, rooted to the spot. "Doctor," Sarah said gently. "If one of us had to do this, would you be there to help us through it?"

"Of course I would," he said instantly, sounding hurt and defensive. Then he pulled himself up and looked from one of them to the other. "Oh. I walked right into that, didn't I?"

"Sure did," Martha confirmed with a gentle smile.

He gave them each another long look. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

They started him moving toward the bedroom again. "We won't. Will we, Martha?" .

"Never," Martha agreed.

"We're good hens." Sarah said seriously.

The Doctor chuckled reluctantly. "Yes, you are. The best."

"Bauck," Sarah clucked, bending forward a fraction to catch Martha's eye.

"Bauck." Martha grinned and clucked back.

"Oh stop," he said. "Don't make me laugh."

"Bauck."

"Bauck."

He laughed helplessly through a bout of shivers and they baucked him into the bedroom.


	10. Chapter 10

They stopped at the side of the bed, where the Doctor started to shrug out of his dressing gown. Martha helped him off with it and then walked over to hang it in the wardrobe. Sarah put the pile of towels down at the head of the bed and looked at him.

"Right. Now what?"

"Spread a couple of the towels out on this side of the bed."

She took a towel off the top of the pile and shook it out. It was big, as he had requested. Her best guess was six feet long and three feet wide. She spread it and then another on top of the bed cushion along the side of the bed, and looked to the Doctor for approval and additional instructions.

"Thanks," he said, shivering again. He turned and sat on the bed in the middle of the towels, placed his hands on his knees, closed his eyes, dropped his head to his chest, and took several deep breaths.

Martha walked back around the bed to stand by Sarah's side. They exchanged apprehensive glances, then looked at the Doctor.

He raised his head, opened his eyes, and looked at them.

"Oh my God!" Martha cried.

"Your eyes," Sarah said, her mouth hanging open in shock.

"What?" he asked wearily, shivering.

'They've gone grey."

He nodded and looked down at the floor. "Good."

Sarah knelt in front of him and looked up into his changed eyes again. For the first time since she'd known him, he really looked alien. It wasn't just the brown irises of his eyes that had gone dark, muddy grey. The whites of his eyes were charcoal grey as well. "Why good?" she asked, trying hard to trust him that this was a good thing.

He took another deep breath as more shivers racked his body. "Means I'm at saturation point." He lay back on the bed and stretched out along the length of the towels. He tipped his head back, took two more deep breaths, and then his whole body tensed, his back arching, fists clenched tightly, teeth showing in a grimace of exertion.

A fine sheen of sweat appeared on his skin. Sarah frowned at the sight. He'd gone pale again, all over, but a greyish sort of pale that didn't look healthy at all.

He relaxed, took a few panting breaths, then once again arched his back and tensed every muscle in his body. The sheen of sweat became discernable drops, grey drops, and Sarah suddenly realized he hadn't gone pale at all, it was the sweat that had made his skin look grey, dark grey toxin-laden sweat that started pouring out of him, now that he'd gotten the process started.

"Martha!" she called, grabbing a towel off the pile and tossing it to the younger woman. Then she took one for herself, and they both started mopping the sweat off him.

The towels they had were quickly saturated. "Four pitchers of water," Martha muttered as she ran a towel down his arm and over his chest.

They heard the door buzzer, and Sarah threw Martha a glance of entreaty. Martha dropped her towel on the foot of the bed and hurried out the door, returning in short order with another stack of clean towels.

"Roll up," Sarah said to the Doctor. He obeyed wordlessly, rolling away from her and up onto his side. Sarah quickly pulled the two drenched towels out from under him and replaced them with two fresh ones. "OK, roll back." He did, and she and Martha went back to towelling him as the toxin-laden sweat continued to stream from every pore.

The worst of it was over in five minutes. The Doctor lay quietly, limply, nearly bonelessly, as the flood of toxins slowed to a trickle and then further diminished until it was just a haze on his skin. Sarah gently blotted his cheeks and forehead and chin with the last dry tail of the last clean towel. He took a deep cleansing breath and opened his eyes.

She smiled with relief. They were his eyes again, deep soft brown irises set in clear whites. "Better?" she asked. He nodded wearily. "How are you feeling?"

"Drained," he said with a glint of tired irony in his eyes.

"I should say." Martha stood next to Sarah and gave him an appraising look.

Sarah saw where her eyes were focussed. "I think it's just the sweat. At least, I hope."

"What?" the Doctor asked.

"You look a bit more like you did when I first met you," she answered softly. "Your hair's gone grey."

He lifted a hand and ran his fingers through his hair, then pulled a disgusted face at the feel of it.

"Hang about," Sarah said. She headed out to the kitchenette and rummaged through the cupboards. She found a large bowl, filled it with warm water and carried it back to the bedroom.

"Scootch around so your head's hanging off the side of the bed," she instructed the Doctor. He looked a bit puzzled, but managed to do as asked.

"Sit up for a second first," Martha said. He did, and she pulled the second set of soaked towels out from under him. "OK, lie back down."

He obeyed, and hung his head off the edge of the bed. Sarah lifted the bowl of water up until the bottom part of his head was submerged. "Martha? Would you like to do the honors?" she asked.

Martha chuckled, then reached down and gently ruffled the Doctor's hair in the water, which promptly turned grey.

"Need a change of water," Sarah said. Martha nodded, scooped up one of the drier towels and held it under the Doctor's head as Sarah lowered the bowl and went off to the kitchen to dump the soiled water and return with fresh.

After the third change of water, the Doctor's hair was back to its usual dark brown. Martha massaged his scalp thoroughly to be sure she'd gotten all the toxic sweat out, and he moaned with pleasure. "If I weren't so tired, I'd be purring," he said, and Sarah grinned.

Martha got one of their regular towels out of the bathroom after the final rinse, wrapped it around his head like a turban, and helped him sit up and scoot around so he was again stretched out rightways of the bed. Sarah dumped the last bowl of water and came back into the bedroom. He'll be out for hours after this, she thought, seeing him lying flat on the bed, eyes closed, looking drained indeed.

Then his eyes popped open. Wide open. "I. Am. Starving," he said emphatically, his voice suddenly stronger. He sat up, levered himself out of the bed, and strode off toward the kitchen.

Sarah and Martha exchanged wide-eyed glances, then Sarah ran for the wardrobe, collected his dressing gown, and joined him and Martha in the kitchen.

He was head and shoulders into the food vault and could scarcely be interrupted in his search for victuals long enough to stick his arms into the dressing gown sleeves. Sarah finally managed to get him to shrug into it, and then tied the waist sash for him as he came up with a big bowl of mealworms. He was already stuffing them into his mouth and chewing at a great rate as he carried the bowl over to the table and sat.

Sarah still hadn't gotten over her distaste for mealworms, so she was both happy and disgusted to see him eating them with such enthusiasm. Happy because she knew it meant he was better, his body was repairing itself and needed massive amounts of nutrients to do the job. Disgusted--well, that one doesn't really need explaining, she thought as she watched him chewing up the worms.

"Does it have to be mealworms?" she asked, looking squeamish.

"Need protein," he said between chews. "Rebuild cells." He nodded at the bowl of worms. "Highest protein content."

She gave him a queasy smile. "_Bon appetit._"

He just nodded an acknowledgement and went on eating.

There were only a few worms left in the bowl when he suddenly stopped eating. His eyes grew wide and intense as if something were going on inside his body that had his undivided attention. "That's enough protein," he said in response to their concerned frowns. "Need...carbs. Fuel. Energy to rebuild. Sugar. Fat. Need...." His lean cheeks puffed out, then his lips did the same. He looked up at them as they stared at his face. "Banana cream pie." The words came out in a soft explosion of air. "That's what I need." Pure longing was in his voice. "Oh, I could murder a couple of banana cream pies."

"You mean a couple of pieces, right?" Martha said. He just stared at her.

"Right. Banana cream pie." Sarah knew he meant pies, not pieces, so she focussed on how to get him what he needed. "Those pink fruits. They're sort of like bananas." He nodded tentatively. "Do we have any?"

Martha got up and checked, found one, and brought it back. The Doctor peeled it and took a bite. He chewed and rolled it around in his mouth. "It has some of the micronutrients I'm craving. And some carbs." He shook his head. "It's no banana, though," he said, wistfully.

"The Craft table," Sarah said, lightbulb going off over her head. She turned to Martha. "At the studio. After the interview. Remember? They had all sorts of fruit tarts and pastries." Her mouth nearly started watering at the memory. "Not banana cream pie, but maybe something close enough."

"Right," Martha agreed. "How do we get some?"

"Call Galindor?" Sarah suggested tentatively. "He gave me his com code."

Martha laughed. "Me too!"

Sarah reached for the com unit and input the code. "We'll probably just get his people, of course. And they'll have to talk to our people before they all take a meeting on... Oh. Hello. Galindor?" She gave Martha a surprised smile and a thumbs up. "It's Sarah Jane Smith. Sarah Jane Smith. The alien. Yes." She grinned. "Good to talk to you too. Actually, we were wondering if we could get some help. Oh, that's so kind of you! Yes, well, our friend, the Doctor, he's been...ill, and we were wondering if we could get him some of those wonderful pastries you had at the studio after our interview. Yes. Yes, I think it will do him a world of good. Oh how good of you. Do you know where we are? Good. Good. As soon as possible," she said earnestly, looking at the Doctor. "It's very important. That probably sounds daft, but, well. You know. Aliens. Chalk it up to that." She beamed into the com unit. "Thank you. So much. See you soon!" She clicked off and looked at the Doctor and Martha with a big grin. "He's on his way."

"Not sending someone?"

"Nope," Sarah said happily. "He sounded thrilled to have the chance to see us again. And meet the Doctor."

The Doctor pulled the towel off his head and finger-combed his damp hair. "Not exactly at my best for meeting anyone."

Sarah gave him a commiserating look. "I know. If you want to go lie down, we'll handle it. I'm sure he'll understand."

The Doctor shook his head. "I can't rest till I get the fuel I need." He gave them a wry smile. "He'll just have to deal with me as I am."

They didn't have long to wait. The buzzer sounded in less than half an hour, and when Sarah opened the door, she quickly dodged out of the way of a plain-looking individual in a dark blue strappy kilt carrying a tray of pastries, followed by another, followed by another, followed by the flamboyant Galindor himself.

"Oh, you must be the Doctor I've heard so much about!" he said, his crest fluttering up and down with excitement, as the three porters put the trays of pastries down on the table and exited the room. "I'm so pleased to meet you."

Sarah and Martha shared a questioning look. "Hi, Galindor. Good to see you," Sarah said tentatively.

Galindor glanced quickly at her, then back at the Doctor. "So sorry to hear you've been ill. Hope it's nothing in the local environment."

"Oh, no, nothing like that," the Doctor said. He turned from Galindor to the trays of pastries. "I don't mean to be rude, but I am starving. Do you mind?"

"Hullo, Galindor," Martha said, even more tentatively than Sarah had done. She, too, got a quick glance only.

"Oh please. Eat! It would be rude not to eat when I've brought you all this food! I daresay you need something. You look positively peaky. Even for an alien!" He paused a moment and a look of doubt came into his big eyes. "Or is the way you look normal for you? I do not mean to offend."

"No," the Doctor laughed. "You're right. I am a bit peaky." He started in on the closest tray, sniffing, tasting, and then devouring the pastries that passed the sniff and taste tests. He groaned with satisfaction when he found one that hit his taste-buds just right. "Are there any more of these?" he asked, stuffing that one in his mouth as soon as he showed it to Galindor.

"Here, Doctor," Sarah said, finding some others like it on the other trays and handing them to him.

"Oooh, thank you." He practically inhaled them, then went back to sniffing and tasting the other varieties.

"Now, you eat!" Galindor said, approvingly. "Your hens just pick. I thought they didn't like the food. Could have knocked me over with a frond when I got the call just now."

"Humans have a slower metabolism than your people," the Doctor said around a mouthful of pastry. "They don't burn calories anywhere near the rate you do. So they can't eat the way you do."

"Ah. But you?"

"I don't usually eat like this either." He found another pastry that suited his needs, wolfed it and looked for more like it. "Just need the calories and nutrients right now to heal myself."

Galindor's mobile com unit chimed and he excused himself, stepping outside to take the call.

"Why is he ignoring us?" Sarah asked as soon as he was out of the room. "He likes us. Talked a blue streak to us at the studio. He interviewed us, for God's sake!"

"Told you," the Doctor said, chewing on his latest find. "It's considered improper for a man to speak to another man's hens in his presence in this culture." He swallowed, then took another pastry from the tray. "These really are good. Brilliant idea, Sarah."

Sarah allowed herself a moment to bask in his praise. "No banana cream pie, though."

"Close enough in a pinch," he assured her. He chewed and swallowed, then continued. "Tell you what. If I say I'm tired and have to go lie down...which, by the way, is true...I'll bet you anything as soon as I'm in the bedroom with the door closed he'll talk your ears off."

Sarah just heard the 'I'm tired' part. "You've got what you need from the pastries?"

He nodded. "Just need some serious kip now to process it all."

Galindor came back in then, offering effusive apologies to the Doctor for the interruption. The Doctor smiled, then, with a glance at his companions, excused himself to the bedroom and closed the door.

Sarah felt a tug at her heart as he disappeared from sight. He did look peaky.

"Well!" Galindor turned to her and Martha and spread his comb with delight. "So good to see you two again! Tell me what's happened to your Doctor. What a shame for him to fall ill when you were having such a nice visit with us. I hope it isn't from the work he did in the flood and mudslides. I heard he did the work of ten men that first night, and then again the next two days when he didn't have to at all, just pitched right in as if he were one of us. What a remarkable creature! Does he always have the circles around his eyes? You two don't. But then we don't all have the same markings either, I'm being silly aren't I..."

Be careful what you ask for, Sarah thought, as she listened, nodded, and tried to get a word in here and there. You might get it.


	11. Chapter 11

Galindor turned out to be as good a listener as he was a talker, once he wound down a bit. Or maybe, Sarah thought, it's considered polite in his culture to monopolize the conversation for the first half hour when you go visiting. Who knows? And he was a good interviewer, she had to give him that. He knew how to draw a person out on a subject. "Tell me about your home planet" would leave most people stuttering and stammering, trying to find a way to sum up a whole world in one sentence. He knew better than to ask questions like that. Sarah found herself well guided into telling him what it was like to live on Earth, what humans were like, what other creatures shared the planet with them. Martha brought her own perspective to his questions and each answer they gave him seemed to bring ten more questions to his agile and inquiring brain. When he found out that they had travelled to other planets besides this one and through time as well, his eyes nearly jumped out of his head and his feathers fluttered with excitement. Martha heard a few of Sarah's tales of travelling with the Doctor that hadn't come up before, and Sarah got the scoop on some of Martha's.

"Shakespeare?" Sarah moaned when Martha told Galindor about meeting Earth's premier playwright. "Oh. I would so love to meet Shakespeare!"

"He's much cuter than the pictures you see," Martha said. "But ooh--his breath!"

Sarah had to laugh. "I'll be sure to take some Listerine along if I ever get to meet him."

The Doctor had made a good-sized dent in the number of pastries Galindor had brought, but three partially-filled trays still sat on the table in front of them as they talked, and Sarah found herself nibbling on a few of them. Maybe more than a few. It was hard to keep track what with the lively conversation going on. Galindor had no compunction about helping himself, and Martha also indulged. So by the time Galindor finally tore himself away and bade them good night, there were considerably fewer pastries.

They saw him to the door and Martha went to hug him good bye. He stiffened and his crest shot straight up and stayed there.

"Is that an alien farewell?" he asked, nervously, as she stepped away.

"It's a hug," Martha said. "It's a way of showing you like someone. Either as a greeting or a farewell or, well, just when the feeling strikes you!"

"We do not do this." He shuffled his feet for a second, then blinked. "Do it again. I wish to experience the alien greeting!

Martha hugged him again and this time he didn't freeze, just looked intensely curious.

"Do senior hens not perform this greeting?" he asked, looking at Sarah.

Martha sniggered as Sarah's eyebrows went up. "Yes, senior hens do this as well. And I'm sure he means higher in rank, not just older," she added for Martha's benefit. She gave Galindor a quick hug, then stepped back and furrowed her eyebrows at him. "If you really want to experience a hug, you have to hug back."

"Oh my," Galindor said, flustered. "How do I do that?"

"You just do what we did. Put your arms around the other person and squeeze. Gently," she added hastily, just to be safe. She wasn't sure how strong those downy arms were but they looked well-muscled under the feathers. She stepped back up to him, put her arms around him, and felt his arms come tentatively around her. "That's it. Good!"

"May I practice with you as well?" he asked Martha. She laughed and moved in to hug and be hugged.

"Thank you so much! I have now -- what is the word?"

"Hug."

"I have now hugged an alien! I am so happy!"

"Two aliens," Sarah corrected him with a grin.

"Yes! Yes!"

He was fairly dancing with excitement as he left. Sarah and Martha shook their heads as Sarah closed the door behind him.

"What a funny culture. No hugging," Martha said.

"Kind of makes sense if you think about it. Do you know any birds that hug on earth?" Sarah walked over to the table and started consolidating the leftover pastries onto one tray.

Martha furrowed her brows in thought, then shook her head. "I suppose it is a mammalian thing." She thought a bit more. "Mostly a primate thing at that." She walked over by Sarah and helped move pastries, then slid the two empty trays under the full one.

"If we laid eggs and dropped worms into our babies' mouths to feed them, we probably wouldn't hug either. It starts with a baby holding onto its mother. And mother holding baby."

Martha laughed. "Well, maybe we'll start a trend here."

"Maybe. He seemed fairly well thrilled with the concept." Sarah looked around the room and dusted off her hands. "Well. Must be dinner time. Hungry?"

Martha rolled her eyes in response. "You have got to be joking."

Sarah chuckled. "Nor I. Too many pastries." She looked at the tray, then glanced at the bedroom door. She sighed, then realized that Martha was watching her.

"Let's go check on him," the younger woman suggested gently.

They walked over to the bedroom door and quietly opened it. The room was dark, but a shaft of light from the open door fell across the Doctor's sleeping form. He lay on his back, head slightly rolled to one side, his breathing deep and even.

"I've never seen him sleeping," Martha said softly, almost reverently.

Sarah gave a quiet laugh. "I kept trying to catch him at it when I travelled with him. Never managed it. If he slept, he waited till I'd given up and drifted off, and he was always awake before me." She smiled, letting her thoughts go back. "Sometimes he'd lie down and cover his face with his hat to give the impression he was sleeping, but I think it was just a ruse."

"His hat?" Martha asked.

Sarah nodded. "He always wore a big floppy fedora back then."

Martha looked at the sleeping Doctor appraisingly. "Can't see it."

"Well. Suited that him."

"That was when you first met him?"

Sarah smiled. "No, that was later. He didn't wear hats when I first met him. He wore capes and velvet smoking jackets and ruffly shirts then."

Martha gave her an incredulous stare. "You _are_ joking."

Sarah shook her head and her face lost its smile. "I miss him sometimes. Them. Those old versions of him." She saw Martha looking at her curiously and gave her a crooked smile. "I know it's still him. But, well, human me." She grew serious again. "It feels almost as if they died." They stood in silence, watching the Doctor sleep, for a long moment. "I wish you could have known him then."

Martha's eyebrows rose. "Me too," she said with a sigh.

He stirred in his sleep and they shushed each other and tiptoed out of the room, closing the door soundlessly behind them. They went back to the table and sat. Sarah frowned at the tray of pastries, then pushed it toward Martha. Martha chuckled and pushed it back.

"Tell me more about what he used to be like," Martha asked softly then, and Sarah was happy to comply, sharing memories of the Doctor, her Doctors. She knew what Martha wanted to hear. Not what Galindor craved--not the excitement, the adventure, the alien-ness of her travels. Martha wanted to hear about the Time Lord himself.

"He was so different. So much..." She sighed. "Happier." She smiled at the younger woman. "You say he's happy with me. It's probably just that I remind him of those days."

"Before the time war?"

Sarah nodded gravely. "It changed him. Well. Not surprising. War changes humans as well. But...so far at least...we haven't had one bad enough to leave just one human standing at the end. And the earth destroyed. Can you imagine, Martha? Being the last human? Our whole world nothing but a burnt cinder?" Martha shook her head slowly and they were both lost in silent contemplation for a long moment. "I don't know how he bears it."

"He told me about Gallifrey once. Sounded beautiful. Did he ever take you there?"

Sarah shook her head. "Humans weren't allowed, he said. That's when he left me back on earth. When he had to go home."

"Why?"

"Oh, the Time Lords were always calling on him for something." She smiled at the memory. "Annoyed the deuce out of him. They didn't approve of him, but if they needed someone to do a job for them, it was always him they came to." Her smile grew crooked. "Especially the dirty and dangerous jobs."

Martha looked a bit lost. "Why didn't they approve of him?"

"He hasn't told you?" Martha shook her head. "Well. Don't suppose I'm telling his tales out of school. He was always proud to be the renegade amongst his people." She sobered. "Not so much fun being a renegade now."

They heard a door open and looked up to see the Doctor emerge from the bedroom, eyelids at half mast, long fingers further rumpling his already rumpled hair. He gave them a sleepy smile, filled a tumbler of water in the kitchenette, then walked over and sat at the table between them.

"Did we wake you?" Martha asked, concerned.

He shook his head. "Just thirsty. Bit dehydrated from the detox." His eyes opened wider when he saw the tray of pastries, and he reached out, selected one and took a big bite.

Martha was incredulous. "Where do you put it? How many stomachs do you have?"

"Oi!" he said around a mouthful of pastry, giving her a startled look. "D'you think I'm a cow?"

"No," Martha said, half-laughing.

"D'you ever see me chew my cud?"

"No," she answered again, grinning. "Sarah?"

Sarah shook her head. "No. But he could just be very discreet about it."

"Oi! You too?"

Sarah grinned at his annoyance. "Well, you do have two hearts. How are we to know what else you might have two of?" She lifted her eyebrows slightly. "Internally, of course."

He arched one eyebrow at her for that comment. Her grin grew a bit wider and she went on. "Makes perfect sense a doctor would want to know these things."

He favored Sarah with a final one-eyebrow-up look, then turned to Martha and assumed his patient professor demeanor. "I have one stomach. Just like you. Only it's a bit more efficient. So..." He took another bite of pastry, chewed, swallowed, then waited, looking as if he were following the food's progress down his body. "The nutrients in that bite of food are now out of my digestive system and into my bloodstream."

Martha's eyes widened. "Wow."

He nodded. "Course, it's not usually quite that fast. Just when my body's repairing itself." He finished off the pastry in a last big bite, then continued, one eyebrow arching a warning. "And before you can ask, there's very little my body can't put to use when I'm in negative nutrient balance."

Martha held up a hand, palm out. "Wasn't going there."

"And you told me you could pack all that food away because Time Lords were bigger on the inside." Sarah shook her head in mock reproof.

He smirked. "And you believed me?"

"Course I did. I always believe you." She started off in a joking tone, but then grew serious as she thought about Rohstan and the regeneration research. Their eyes met, and they gazed soberly at each other for a long moment.

"I wish that were true," he said softly.


	12. Chapter 12

Sarah reached out a hand and slid it under his where it rested on the table, her eyes never leaving his. "I believe in you. You know that. You have to know that," she said with all the earnestness at her command. He looked down at their hands and gave a slight nod. "But I am having a terrible time believing that you'd willingly let that man do whatever he did to put you into the condition you were in when he carried you through that door."

He ducked his head, his eyes still on their hands. "I am sorry about that," he said softly, stroking her hand with his thumb. "I never meant to put you through that." He looked up at her at last, his eyes sorrowful. "I thought I'd regenerate. Come back with a new body." His lips curled in a crooked smile. "Worst thing I expected was a bit of post-regeneration trauma, and I knew you could handle that. Knew you'd take a new me in stride." He glanced at Martha. "Might have been a bit of a shock for Martha, but between the two of us, I knew we'd get her through it."

Sarah was listening intently, but still couldn't make sense of what he was saying. She kept her voice soft and neutral, trying to understand. "But why? Why would you let him force you into regenerating?"

"So he could monitor the process and learn exactly what happens." He gave her a frustrated look. "And he didn't force me. It was my idea."

"Didn't the Time Lords know how regeneration works?" Martha asked. "Didn't they do research?"

He nodded without looking at her. "Yes." His eyes grew bleak. "They'd unravelled the whole process. Much like your scientists have mapped the human genome." Her eyebrows went up and he answered her unspoken question bitterly. "And it was all lost with Gallifrey."

"It's not in the TARDIS databanks?"

He closed his eyes for a second and shook his head. "It was. Some of it. I wiped it." He looked up, saw their puzzled frowns. "One of the many less than entirely rational things I did after the time war." He sighed. "Didn't see any point in storing obscure data about Time Lord physiology when there weren't any more Time Lords."

"There was still you," Sarah said gently. The look he gave her in response hurt her heart.

"None of it was done with a thought toward other species," he continued after a moment. "The Time Lords never would have considered that. Allow other species to regenerate? Puh-leeze." He shook his head. "So, yeah, that data would be nice to have, but it still wouldn't be what Rohstan needs." He looked up at Martha, then at Sarah. "He needs what only I can give him. A real live Time Lord. Regenerating. Where his instruments can record exactly what happens as it happens."

_How could you make a decision like that without telling us? _was on the tip of Sarah's tongue, but she bit it back, not wanting to fight with him, never wanting to fight with him, but especially not now, when he was still so far from well. "Why didn't you tell us?" she finally asked in her most carefully neutral voice, working hard to keep any accusation out of her tone. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Martha give a slight nod of agreement.

He looked up at her. "What would you have said?"

She didn't have to think that one over. "Don't do it," she answered with no hesitation.

One corner of his mouth quirked up.

"Well, what would you expect me to say? Go for it? Give up a thousand years of your life?" She caught herself in a stern grip before she could say any more, looked away from him, took a deep breath and sighed it out.

"A thousand years?" He shook his head ruefully. "Doubtful. Haven't lived out a full regeneration in nine bodies now. I could leave here and get run over by a bus and regenerate tomorrow." He chuckled grimly. "And probably will. And it wouldn't do anyone a bit of good."

"Except you," Sarah pointed out.

He closed his eyes, leaned his head forward, held it in his hands, elbows resting on the table. "I don't want to live a thousand years alone." His voice was so soft they had to strain to hear him. "I don't want to outlive everyone I care about. Or put my friends in mortal danger, knowing they only have one life to live. One body to risk." He wrapped both of his hands around Sarah's, held it tight, and looked up at her. "Do you understand what it would mean to me if my companions could regenerate?"

She searched his eyes, then searched her own heart. "Yes. I think I do." Gratitude flooded his eyes, gratitude and relief. She kept her eyes locked on his. "Do you understand what it would mean to me...to us...if you die?"

He quirked a faint grin at her. "It's not death, Sarah. It's just a regeneration."

"Do you know that? For sure?" He gave her a puzzled look. "You didn't regenerate when the Judoon beat you to the point where you could have. Should have."

He shook his head. "I told you. That was my choice. I can suppress it. But I wanted this regeneration to happen. I certainly didn't do anything to stop it happening."

"What about when the plasmavore killed you?" Martha asked. "Did you suppress it then?"

He nodded. "Had to. If I had regenerated, it would have given me away as an alien and they would have vaporized me on the spot before they could figure out she was the alien they were after."

"Could you have regenerated from that?" Sarah asked.

"From what?"

"Being vaporized."

He snorted humorlessly. "No. Has to be a bit of me left before I can regenerate."

"So it's not a guarantee."

"What?"

"That you'll regenerate."

"Well..." He sighed. "It's pretty good odds. As long as I'm in one piece."

She looked him up and down. "You mean like you are now?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, a bit defensively.

"Then why didn't it happen?"

He pursed his lips and let go of her hand to rub his stubbly cheek thoughtfully. "Well," he said, drawing out the word. "My best guess is Rohstan panicked. When I passed out."

"I'm gaining new respect for him," Sarah said wryly.

The Doctor shot her a glance, then went on. "And my second best guess is that I just needed a bit more of a push."

"A push?" He nodded. "Meaning you needed to be hurt more than you already were?"

He nodded, blinking and looking away from both of them. "That's the beauty of the cellular disruptor," he said. "But I'm afraid it worked against me in the end."

Sarah shook her head, lost again. "What's the beauty of the cellular disruptor?"

He looked at her with some of his old enthusiasm. "You turn it off and the damage stops. Snap. Not like stabbing or shooting or poisoning when you might do more damage than you really need to do to trigger a regeneration."

"Stop," Sarah said emphatically, hands up, palms out. "I really don't want to have a conversation about the best ways to kill you." She felt her eyes welling with tears, caught Martha's sympathetic gaze for the briefest of seconds, then looked away.

"Sarah," he said gently, pleadingly..

She swallowed hard and fought to control herself. "Silly. I know. Silly, stupid human reaction. No reason we can't have a civilized discussion as to whether it's better to...boil you in oil or drop you off a tall building."

"Did that. Wasn't much fun." She looked up at him quickly, wondering if he was trying to jolly her out of it, but saw he was serious.

"Which one?"

"The tall building. Well. It was a tower, actually. But the result was the same." He grimaced at the memory, shook it off, and then looked at her with a very small smile. "That's when I lost my...teeth and curls," he said softly.

"Oh." Sarah ducked her head and didn't even try to fight the tears this time. "Don't tell me any more."

"Sarah." His voice was rough with emotion. "I'm still me."

"I know," she said. She looked up at him, studied his face for a moment. "I know. It's just...hard sometimes." She gave a small laugh through her tears. "Sometimes when I look at you, I see him. You. That you. Just for a second. Or...hear his voice. That voice. When you speak."

"Perfectly normal," he assured her. "Happened with Time Lords and Ladies all the time."

She swiped at the tears on her cheeks and took a shaky breath. "Go on then," she finally said, not looking at him.

"Go on?" This time he was lost.

"Your second guess. Why you didn't regenerate."

"Oh." He thought a moment, then picked up the thread of his explanation. "Just that he turned off the cellular disruptor too soon. And because the damage does stop instantly as soon as it's turned off..."

Sarah felt his eyes on her as his words trailed to a halt but she was still in no shape to face him.

"I'm sorry," he said, so softly, so earnestly that the tears she'd just managed to stop started up again. "I don't mean to upset you. Either of you." They all sat in silence for a long moment. "Blimey, I'm making a mess of this." His voice faltered. "I'm so tired." Sarah looked up at him through her tears then, startled that he would actually admit it, worried at the thought of how much he might be hiding the true extent of his condition from them. He looked at Sarah, then at Martha. "You must be exhausted too. After what I've put you through. Can we all just get some rest and try this discussion again in the morning? See if it goes better then?"

Sarah closed her eyes and took a moment to check in with herself. She _was _exhausted, she realized. Emotionally, if not physically. She dashed away the last of the tears, then looked at him and nodded.

When Sarah and Martha woke up the next morning, the Doctor was gone.

A quick check showed his blue suit was missing from the wardrobe, his dressing gown was hanging in its place and his pyjamas were neatly folded on the top shelf.

"Must be feeling better," Martha said, giving Sarah an encouraging look.

Sarah just nodded. The knot in her stomach apparently showed on her face, though, as Martha furrowed her brows in response. "You don't think...."

Sarah shrugged helplessly. "I don't know what to think."

"But do you believe him now? That Rohstan isn't forcing him to do anything?"

Sarah sighed and shook her head. "I don't know. It's still easier for me to believe that than the alternative. Except..." She looked up at Martha. "After what you told me. About how he's been since you've known him." Her eyes lost focus again and she wrapped her arms around herself. "I just don't know." She paused a moment, resting a finger on her upper lip, lost in thought. "I do believe he desperately wants to find a way to make us live longer. And be less fragile."

"I never really felt fragile before," Martha said.

Sarah looked up at her with a wry smile. "You're young. You're indestructible. Give it a few decades."

"Won't have to, if he has his way." Martha smiled brightly, then grew thoughtful. "Wonder what it would be like."

Sarah felt some of the worry dissolve as she contemplated the idea herself. "To grow old knowing you'll regenerate into a new young body when the one you're in wears out?" She laughed ruefully. "The way the world is now? I think we'd be seeing a lot of suicides in forty and fifty-year-olds."

Martha laughed. "Too right. But would it really be suicide if you know you'll morph into a new body?"

Sarah sighed and her face grew serious again. "Sure feels like it to me," she said, thinking about the Doctor. "Maybe that's just my limited human perspective, though. Maybe to a Time Lord...."

The door opened, and a Time Lord strode in. A particular long-legged, lean, wild-haired Time Lord. "Oi, you two. Still lounging around in your jim jams? C'mon, get dressed, places to go, things to do! _Allons-y_!"

Sarah laughed with relief. The Doctor's energy level and attitude were clearly back to normal this morning. "Such as?" she asked.

His grin was radiant. "They've found the TARDIS!" he crowed.


	13. Chapter 13

The trip to the mudfields, as Sarah couldn't help thinking of the area where they had last seen the TARDIS, was a lot longer than she remembered. Of course, she'd slept through a good bit of the journey when they first arrived. Now she was wide awake and eagerly taking in the sights.

There was a vegetative ground cover in most places they passed but it wasn't the least bit like grass. It looked more like a sort of clumpy moss, and came in a number of colors, from soft pastels through astonishingly vibrant hues. The houses they passed were a bit like geodesic domes, if she had to compare them to something she knew from Earth, but taller, allowing for a second story that was somewhat narrower in circumference than the ground floor. They were smoothly finished in a building material that resembled very fine stucco, mostly in whites and ecrus, which set off the lovely varicolored mossy lawns to perfection. She kept thinking the houses reminded her of something, something that niggled annoyingly at her subconscious.

"Humpty Dumpty!" she finally burst out. Martha, sitting in the back of the vehicle with her, looked at her askance and Sarah laughed. "I've been trying to think what the houses remind me of."

Martha grinned and nodded. "Humpty Dumpty! Exactly!"

"Huge Humpties with windows and doors," Sarah elaborated. "Straight out of Wonderland."

"All that's missing is the arms and legs!" They both giggled at that image.

Rohstan was driving and the Doctor, of course, was sat in the front passenger seat so the men could talk while the women rode behind. What bothered Sarah the most about that arrangement was how easy it was proving to get used to it. She consoled herself by telling herself she was just honoring local customs, not giving up her feminist principles. Martha was good company, and the two of them chatted quietly, off and on, listening to the Doctor and Rohstan's conversation whenever there was a pause in their own.

A few hours into their journey, both conversations fell quiet at the same time, and Sarah looked up into the front seat to see that the Doctor was sitting, arms folded across his chest, head leaning against the side of the vehicle, eyes closed. She reached out, tapped Martha gently on the knee, then indicated the Doctor with her eyes. Martha followed her gaze, frowned slightly, then looked back at her.

"That's not like him," she said softly.

Sarah shook her head, then looked back at the Doctor with worried eyes.

When they arrived at the point where they had to leave the vehicle and walk, Rohstan gently reached over and nudged the Doctor awake. He rubbed his eyes, gave his hair a thorough ruffling, stretched, and then got out and joined the other three. They set off across what Sarah so vividly remembered as a sea of sucking, clinging, grasping, strength-devouring mud. It was a positive pleasure to walk on it now, as it had dried to the consistency of rough concrete. She couldn't help noticing, though, that she and Martha had no trouble keeping up with the Doctor, and that Rohstan was politely slowing his own pace to match that of the Time Lord.

When the Doctor saw the light of his TARDIS shining up ahead, he eagerly lengthened his stride and increased the pace, and despite his weariness, had Martha and Sarah trotting to keep up. They had to slow down and pick their way a bit more carefully as they approached the dig site due to the unevenness of the excavated ground, which is why they nearly ran straight into the Doctor, who had abruptly slammed on the brakes.

He was stood, staring, at his time and space ship, a look of bemusement in his expressive brown eyes. Sarah looked up and immediately understood why. The TARDIS sat, dug out of the mud indeed, but with her doors standing wide open and an enormous plug of dried-hard mud blocking her entrance.

The Doctor gave Sarah and Martha a sidelong, one-eyebrow-up, look. "Someone forgot to close the doors behind her."

The two women exchanged guilty glances. "Oops," Martha said in a very small voice.

"We were in sort of a hurry," Sarah added apologetically.

One corner of the Doctor's mouth quirked up. "We were, weren't we. Well. Don't worry about it. If I can just get in..."

Rohstan, upon seeing the TARDIS, had looked around and then darted off to a small workman's hut that stood at a short distance from the TARDIS. He returned now with another individual in tow.

"Your workmen were to clear the Doctor's vehicle completely," Rohstan chided the other man as they walked up.

The foreman of the work crew raised his crest defensively. "I could not make them work after they saw what they saw."

"Which was?"

"Look for yourself," the foreman said, indicating a small chink in the mud plug at the very top of the TARDIS doors. Sarah hadn't noticed it before, but now could see that the greenish-gold light of the console room was glinting through the small opening.

"He's quite right, Rohstan," the Doctor said, smiling. "It does take a bit of getting used to if you come upon it unexpectedly." He approached the TARDIS doors and poked the dried mud blocking him from his ship. Flecks of dirt cascaded down, and the Doctor poked the same spot again, a bit harder. "If you could just dig me some footholds," he suggested.

The foreman retreated a few steps, his crest falling, but Rohstan set to with his talons and carved out some niches in the mud for the Doctor.

"Brilliant. Thank you." The Doctor pulled the sonic screwdriver out of his pocket, checked its setting, then inserted it between his teeth and clamped down. He set the toes of his trainers in the lowest niches in the mud and climbed the face of the mud plug until he was on eye level with the small opening at the top. He reached in with a long arm and sonicked the dried mud to loosen it up, then pushed it out with his hand, enlarging the gap. Sarah and Martha stepped back as the dirt flew. It only took a moment before the Doctor could fit both arms into the hole and make the dirt fly twice as fast. Before long, he was squeezing his long, lean body through the gap. There was a momentary hang-up as his hips hit the narrowest point of the opening, but with a wiggle or two they were through and his long legs disappeared after them, leaving just his trainers dangling out of the hole for a moment. Then they slid out of sight as well.

Sarah waited as long as she could, which wasn't very long. "You alright in there?" she called.

"Fine," came the reply, muffled by the mud. "It didn't reach the console. Just came up the ramp."

Sarah waited again. She never was terribly good at waiting, though. "Do we need to start digging?"

"No, just give me a minute."

A minute later, give or take a few seconds, they heard the TARDIS wheeze and groan, and suddenly the pile of mud blocking the doors was there, then it wasn't, then it was, then it wasn't, then...it was ten feet to the left of the TARDIS, and the doorway was clear.

"Yes!" Martha cried, punching the air. Sarah laughed, then they ran up the ramp side by side, into the familiar home-from-home that the TARDIS console room had become for both of them.

The Doctor stood by the console, beaming, clearly chuffed with himself. "Well done," Sarah complimented him.

"Well," he said, trying unsuccessfully to sound modest. "Had to decide whether to move her away from the mud or the mud away from her. Decided moving the mud would be easier. Just had to make sure it didn't land on anyone."

Martha looked closely at the floor of the ramp, then ran her finger up the railing and inspected it. "Very thorough," she said. "I thought we'd have at least a bit of housecleaning to do."

The Doctor's left eyebrow shot up. "You ever see me doing housework?" he asked.

Sarah thought back. "Now that you mention it...." She broke off when she noticed the Doctor staring down the ramp with a huge, delighted grin, laugh lines clearly defined around his eyes. She followed his gaze and then grinned as well, as she saw Rohstan frozen in shock, halfway up the ramp, his big eyes bigger than ever as he gazed around the console room.

"This...is...not...logical," he said haltingly.

"You'll get used to it," the Doctor assured him. "Come on up."

Rohstan slowly climbed the ramp, his eyes darting all around the console room, until he finally reached the top. He looked at the Doctor and shook his head. "You have shown me many things of amazement, my friend," he said. "But this. This..." He shook his head again as words failed him.

"It's bigger on the inside." Martha just had to say it. Rohstan looked at her and blinked, but didn't comment.

"Your phone!" Sarah cried to Martha as she spotted the mobile on the bench seat.

"Want to call Harry?" Martha asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Sarah hesitated. "I should, shouldn't I." She picked up the phone, flipped it open, then stopped. "Doctor?"

"Yes?"

"If I call Harry now, when will he get the call?"

His eyebrows headed for his hairline. "Is this a trick question?"

"No, not at all. If I call Harry now, will he get the call now? In real time?" She furrowed her brows. "If there is such a thing," she added under her breath.

"Yes. And yes, there is such a thing as real time." He tugged gently on an earlobe and screwed up his face. "Sort of. Why?"

"Well, you're still going to try to get us back home just a few hours after we left, right?"

He nodded tentatively. "If that's what you want, I'll give it a shot."

"OK, so, if I get back three hours after I left, but call Harry now..."

"You could be there when the call comes in." Martha finished the sentence for her.

"Exactly," Sarah said with a smile, gratified by Martha's quick understanding.

"And?" the Doctor asked.

"Wouldn't that be some sort of time paradox?"

He stuck out his bottom lip dismissively. "Just a tiny one. Not enough to trigger the Blinovitch limitation effect or anything."

Sarah looked at Martha with a mischievous grin. "Enough to trigger a major 'told you so' effect, though." She held on to the phone another minute, then snapped it shut and handed it to Martha. "I think I'll wait."


	14. Chapter 14

Sarah Jane and Martha turned to look at the Doctor, who was pointing at various bits of the console and explaining them to Rohstan a mile a minute. Rohstan's crest was rising and falling slowly as he listened, asked questions, and occasionally reached out to touch a switch or a dial tentatively.

The Doctor also, Sarah noticed, was surreptitiously bracing himself on the edge of the console. She stepped up to him and gently laid a hand on his back. He stopped his stream of explanations and looked down at her questioningly.

"Why don't you go lie down in the zero room for a bit?" she suggested.

"I have company," the Doctor said, indicating Rohstan with his eyebrows.

Sarah glanced at their visitor. "Martha and I can show him around." She looked to Martha for support and got a "sure, why not" smile back. When the Doctor looked dubious, one corner of Sarah's mouth turned up. "He'll even talk to us if you're not around."

The Doctor laughed softly and looked at Rohstan, who raised his crest slightly in acknowledgement. "S'pose that's true." He took a deep breath and sighed it out. "Some zero room time _would _do me good. You sure you don't mind?" Sarah just tipped her head at him, and he reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "Thanks."

"What is a zero room?" Rohstan asked.

The Doctor smiled. "Follow me and I'll show you. Might as well start the tour there."

Rohstan's eyes bulged. "You cannot mean that there is even more to your ship than what I see here."

"Oh, you ain't seen nothin' yet," Sarah said. She and Martha exchanged knowing grins.

The Doctor strode through the coral arch that led off the console room and Rohstan hesitantly followed him, peering around the arch to one side, then the other before committing himself to stepping through. Sarah was tempted to give him a bit of a push on his tailfeathers, but decided it might cause an interstellar incident. She behaved herself and waited.

They reached the zero room in short order, the TARDIS confirming Sarah's belief that the Doctor was still far from fully recovered by placing it close to the console room. As they stepped inside, a relieved look spread across the Doctor's face.

"Blimey, it's good to be home," he said with a warm smile for all three of his companions. Then, he closed his eyes, and with a deep, slow breath, his body tipped backwards, his feet left the floor, and he floated three feet above ground in front of them.

"I take it you haven't seen him do this before?" Sarah asked Martha softly, as Martha picked her jaw up off the floor.

The younger woman shook her head. "He hasn't stopped surprising me yet," she said.

Sarah laughed. "Don't expect that to happen soon."

Rohstan prowled around all sides of the Doctor, waved his hands under him and above him, then stood back and frowned at him. "Please explain this phenomenon," he said.

"Has to do with the ionization in the room," the Doctor said dreamily, not opening his eyes. "Promotes healing. Especially of neural synapses." He paused, and a blissed-out smile appeared on his face. "Good for what ails you really though."

Rohstan glanced at Martha, crest up but not saying anything, and she shrugged in response. "Must be a Time Lord thing," she said.

"Sarah can do it," the Doctor said, so relaxed his words came out a bit slurred. "Taught her."

Martha looked at Sarah, eyebrows up, eyes wide.

Sarah smiled. "It's been a long time."

"Didn't practice?" the Doctor asked.

"Doesn't work outside the zero room." Her eyes lost focus as she did a little time travelling of her own back through her memories. "Except after thunderstorms. Then I could do it for a bit."

The Doctor nodded slowly, sleepily. "Ionization," he said, as if that explained everything. Then he was quiet, just breathing, but somehow making breathing seem like the only thing that could possibly need doing.

"Meet us in the galley for tea when you're ready," Sarah said softly. "But don't rush yourself." He was too relaxed to even nod, but a sleepy smile indicated he'd heard.

They tiptoed out of the zero room and, sure enough, as soon as they stepped through the coral arch, Rohstan stopped ignoring them and started chatting away as if they were all best mates. Sarah was sure that somehow, either psychically or through his link with the TARDIS, the Doctor would know when they were in the galley and would rouse himself to join them, so she decided to prolong the tour as much as possible.

"Would you like to see the library?" she asked, thinking that room alone would keep a scientist occupied for a good long while, and Rohstan nodded agreeably. Once they arrived in the library, she searched out subject sections she thought Rohstan would find interesting and steered him toward them. Martha gave her a puzzled glance, but when Sarah raised her eyebrows at her with a pleading "follow my lead" look, she quickly and without question fell in line, also encouraging Rohstan to explore the library to his heart's content.

An hour later, they moved on to the wardrobe. "Oh, if my hens could see this!" Rohstan crowed as he walked up and down the rows of clothes racks, riffling through the alien costumes, rubbing the fabrics between his fingers and marvelling at the textures and colors.

"You have four?" Sarah asked, just to make conversation, remembering that the Doctor had mentioned this.

Rohstan nodded.

"Any...chicks?" Martha asked, smothering a grin at her own choice of words.

Apparently the word choice didn't jar in translation. "My chicks are long grown," Rohstan laughed. "I have grand-chicks. Here, let me show you..." He pulled a small rectangular item out of the pocket of his kilt. It was about the size of a business card, but not made of paper, Sarah saw, as he unfolded it once, then twice. It snapped open so that no fold lines showed, and became a screen, much like a digital camera at home, but thinner than the thinnest Earth technology had come up with to date.

"Here's Corzina, she's the most recently hatched, my Rontunillia's youngest," he said, showing Martha the screen. Sarah stepped over closer so she could see as well. She saw an image of a downy little one, eyes even bigger in proportion to her face than the adults', beak small and soft-looking, a frill of pink feathers on her head.

Rohstan pressed a small button on the rim of the screen. "And here is my Savlonicus with his four, that's Racindor, Porsepia, Fupinina and Zoeltan..."

He scrolled through photo after photo, proudly identifying his children and grandchildren, telling of their little achievements and adorable foibles, the small domestic adventures that every grandparent throughout the universe finds so endearing when the subject is his own offspring's offspring. Sarah watched him, glancing at the photos briefly, but really studying the man, his expressions, his body language. And as she did, she felt the last of her suspicions about him dissolve.

She had lain awake a long time the night before, in the big bed between the Doctor and Martha, lying on her side and watching him sleep, thinking about what he had tried to tell them, questioning her own emotional reactions and presumptions, her cultural and social preconceptions. Then today, on their journey to the TARDIS, she had kept her senses tuned not only to the content of the conversation between the Doctor and Rohstan but more importantly to the tone of their voices, their body language. She was adept at reading visual and aural subtext like this with humans, as any skilled journalist is, and of course she was intimately familiar with the Doctor's voice and body language. The inhabitants of this world seemed not to differ drastically from humans in their non-verbal communication style. And, pushing aside her reservations, observing with an open heart, she saw nothing but trust and friendship between the Time Lord and the scientist. Seeing Rohstan the proud grandfather made the last doubts she had about him, and her own judgement of him, melt away.

She sighed. She didn't realize how loudly she had sighed until Rohstan and Martha both glanced up from the photo album to give her quizzical looks. She opened her mouth, shut it again, squared her shoulders and reached out to touch Rohstan on the arm.

He looked at her hand with alarm, and she laughed softly. "I'm sorry, your people don't touch the way ours do, do they?"

"What does this action indicate for your people?" he asked.

She took a deep breath. "Well, in this case, it means I have something to say to you that I'm finding hard to say. It's a way to establish a connection. To make it easier. And to show my sincerity." She gave him a crooked smile, then remembered that his people didn't express emotions with their beaks, and tried to signal what she was feeling with her eyes.

"You may say whatever you wish to me. Please. Do not feel hindered."

Sarah took another deep breath. "I owe you an enormous apology, Rohstan." She saw Martha's surprised look out of the corner of her eye, but didn't let it distract her. "I have done you a grave injustice."

His crest rose and fluffed out a bit. "How have you done this?"

"I thought you were forcing the Doctor to help you with your research." She shook her head. "I couldn't believe he would sacrifice one of his last chances to regenerate of his own free will."

Rohstan's eyes grew dark and his crest fluffed out fully. Sarah expected a blast of recrimination and braced herself, telling herself she deserved it. But he surprised her.

"What do you mean when you say one of his last chances to regenerate?"

She looked up at him quickly. "He didn't tell you?"

"I do not know. You tell me."

"He can't regenerate indefinitely. He can only do it a limited number of times. And he's used up all but a last few. He only has two or three left. At most."

Rohstan looked as if someone had knocked the wind out of him. His large eyes focussed on Sarah and he wrapped his arms around his body. "He did not tell me this. No." He straightened, glanced around, then started to pace. "When you first appeared, the night of the destruction, I did not even accept what he said about himself, that he was a Time Lord and could regenerate. I thought, he is a hero, he has worked himself to exhaustion for my people, but he is..." He paused in his pacing, looked up at Sarah and Martha with embarrassment, then continued. "...mad. Or deluded. But then you..." He nodded at Sarah. "...confirmed the truth of his statements."

Sarah's eyebrows furrowed. "Why would you believe me if you didn't believe him?" She blew out a breath, remembering that night. "I was far more exhausted than he was."

"You are a senior hen. Senior hens do not lie," he answered simply.

"Oh." Now it was Sarah who felt as though she'd had the wind knocked out of her.

Rohstan stopped and stared at her. "It is true? He can regenerate?"

She nodded. "Yes. He can. I've seen him do it." She looked to Martha for support. "But Martha and I have both seen him injured to the point of death when he did not regenerate. So while he definitely can, there's no guarantee that he always will."

"This he did not tell me either." Rohstan's eyes looked grave and his crest was plastered flat against his head.

"We talked about it last night," Sarah said. "He's convinced that the only reason he didn't regenerate was because you turned off the cellular disruptor before it had caused enough damage." She swallowed hard, grimacing at the thought. "Sorry. I don't mean to make it sound as if he were blaming you. He wasn't. He understands why you did what you did."

Rohstan nodded. "He indicated this to me this morning. When he came to the lab and examined the data generated by the attempt. Before we got word that his ship..." He glanced around him. "This remarkable ship...had been found."

"And," Sarah started, then had to stop and gather her courage to finish her question. "This morning. When you discussed the data. Did you discuss trying it again?"

"Sarah," Martha said. "There's no way..."

Sarah just looked at her, and the younger woman fell silent.

Rohstan stared at Martha, then at Sarah. "Yes. We discussed making a second attempt." He clamped his beak shut tightly for a moment, then continued. "I was not in favor of it."

"Good," Sarah said.

Rohstan held her gaze. "But he was."


	15. Chapter 15

"Hullo. How's the tour going?" The Doctor was suddenly in the doorway, standing bent forward at the waist, hands in pockets, smiling brightly. "Thought I'd find you in the galley."

"Ah." Sarah Jane looked him over. "We were trying to give you all the time you needed in the zero room. How are you feeling?"

The Doctor grinned and straightened up. "Like a new man." He looked in Sarah's eyes and his grin faded a bit. "Well. Nearly."

Sarah shook her head and laughed ruefully. "Very nearly," she agreed.

"Rohstan," the Doctor said heartily. "What do you think of my ship?"

"It is amazing," Rohstan replied.

"What have you seen?"

"The library. And this remarkable collection of garments." Rohstan nodded toward the wardrobe.

The Doctor's eyebrows lifted. "That's all?" He looked askance at Sarah and Martha.

"Erm. We were being thorough?" Martha offered.

The Doctor laughed. "C'mon, let's move this tour on a bit. Can't wait to get to the tea that comes after."

They headed out the archway, following the Doctor deeper into his ship. Rohstan got the cook's tour this time, just getting a look in at the cloister room, the art gallery, the greenhouse, the infirmary, and the swimming pool before the Doctor shepherded them all back to the galley.

He put the kettle on and rummaged in cupboards for a minute, finally bringing out some Typhoo, several bottles of ginger beer, and a box of biscuits.

Sarah picked up the box and read the label, then looked at him quizzically. "Girl Scout cookies?"

"Thin mints," he confirmed. "Best biscuits in the universe."

"Made in U.S.A.," Martha read, looking at the box. "19..." She looked up at the Doctor. "..64?"

He nodded. "That's when they were best. Changed the formula in the 70s. They're rubbish in your time. Compared to what they were, anyway."

Martha turned the box around, searching each panel. "No expiry date."

"Didn't use them in the 60s."

Sarah and Martha exchanged amused glances. "I take it they keep well then?"

He bent his head to peer at them and let his mouth hang open slightly. "I travel in time," he said softly, mysteriously.

Sarah peered back at him, wide-eyed, letting her mouth hang open slightly, and answered just as softly. "No. Really?"

He grinned. "I nip back to the 60s and load up whenever I run out." He shook his head. "I've made a number of girl scouts very happy over the years."

Martha's eyebrows shot up at that comment, and Sarah laughed at her astonished look. "I think he means by buying lots of their cookies," she clarified for him.

"Yup!" he agreed enthusiastically, opening the box and putting it on the table. "Whatever girl I buy from always wins her troop's sales contest!"

He pulled out a chair for Rohstan, who sat gingerly on it, careful of his tail feathers. "Sit, sit!" the Doctor encouraged Sarah and Martha. They did, and he joined them after transferring the drinks to the table.

"This is ginger beer," the Doctor said, holding up a bottle and showing it to Rohstan. "That drink I mentioned yesterday." Rohstan nodded and took the bottle from him, examining the label closely. "And this," the Doctor went on as he picked up a cup of tea. "Is the national beverage of Sarah Jane and Martha's homeland." He grinned at them.

Rohstan opened the bottle and sniffed the ginger beer curiously. "This beverage is the one you said was possessed of healing properties?"

"For me, yes," the Doctor agreed. "But mostly people just drink it for the taste."

"And this?" Rohstan picked up the cup of tea.

"Careful, it's hot," Sarah cautioned him, as it looked as if he were about to dip his beak into it. He glanced up at her and then just sniffed the tea. "Doctor," Sarah said thoughtfully.

"Mmm?"

"How do you know whether our food and drink is safe for Rohstan?"

"We've been eating theirs for days."

"True," she agreed. "But they don't seem to drink anything but water and fruit juice. No caffeinated anything. No tannins."

He waggled his head back and forth a few times, considering. "Good point," he finally said. "Better to be safe. Let me check." He stood and stepped over to a computer screen that was embedded in the wall. He touched the screen in several places and Rohstan's outline appeared, accompanied by several symbols. "All clear," he announced. He grinned at Rohstan. "Might get a bit of a buzz off the caffeine, since you've never had it," he said. "But it won't do you any harm."

Rohstan sampled everything and his eyes glowed with enthusiasm. "Alien food and drink!" Sarah and Martha exchanged grins, remembering Galindor's excited response to all things alien.

The Doctor responded by getting up and rummaging deeper into his cupboards, bringing out more exotic delicacies. Some Sarah remembered from her days on the TARDIS--gardonian frumflowers and foo nictons always had been favorites of his--but some were new to her, treats he'd obviously discovered in their years apart. Most appeared to be new to Martha, judging by her reactions as she sampled each item.

"Enough! Enough!" Rohstan finally said, pushing himself back from the table. "I will never be able to eat my evening meal if I continue. And how will I explain to my hens that I have been filling myself with alien delicacies?"

"I think I've just had my evening meal," Sarah said, also pushing back from the table.

They all rose and helped with the clearing up, over the Doctor's protests. Sarah smiled to see him playing host with such enthusiasm, and again realized how much he clearly liked and respected Rohstan. She sighed softly and shook her head at herself. No way he was pretending for their benefit. How could she have been so blind?

They returned to the console room and walked down the ramp together and out into the bright afternoon.

"You two wait here," the Doctor said. "I'll walk Rohstan back to his transport."

Sarah nodded, folded her arms and leaned back against the TARDIS. Martha leaned against the TARDIS next to her, her hands clasped behind her. They both watched the Time Lord and the scientist as they strode away, deep in conversation before they'd gone ten steps.

"He's talking Rohstan into doing it again," Sarah said softly after a moment.

Martha looked at her, eyebrows up. "You can hear them?"

Sarah shook her head. "I just know him. Look at them."

Martha turned to watch the two retreating figures again. They stopped and stood for a moment, the Doctor leaning slightly in toward Rohstan, talking earnestly, hands gesturing, Rohstan's crest going slowly up and down as he listened. Then they turned and continued walking, still deep in discussion.

"No worries," Martha said. "Rohstan said he wouldn't do it again."

Sarah shook her head. "Don't count on it. The Doctor can be very persuasive."

"Too true." Martha's heartfelt tone made Sarah smile. "But why would he want to go through that again? It doesn't make sense."

Sarah sighed. "He doesn't. He didn't expect to the first time." She glanced away from the Doctor and Rohstan long enough to look into Martha's worried brown eyes to underline her point. "When he regenerates, he's completely healed. Immediately. No aftermath, no recovery period." Her eyes lost focus as she searched her memories. "A bit disoriented. He didn't remember me at first. But physically--perfectly fine." She looked back at the receding figures. "That's what he expected to happen. And what he'll make sure happens if he goes through with a second attempt."

Martha's voice was questioning, almost accusing. "You sound as if you're okay with it now."

Sarah took a deep breath before answering. "Not my place to be okay with it or not, is it? His lives, his choice."

Martha stared at her, mouth open. "Is that what you always say when someone tells you he's going to top himself?"

"Someone human? Of course not. But he's not human." Sarah smiled crookedly. "Something I advised you to remember not so long ago. And then I went and nearly forgot it myself."

"But...but..." Martha stammered to a halt.

"What?" Sarah asked softly.

Martha sighed. "I don't know. It just doesn't feel right. Still."

Sarah nodded. "I know. I still hate the whole idea." She raked her fingers through her hair distractedly. "I wish we'd never come here. Wish I'd let him ignore that distress signal."

Martha let that statement hang in the air between them for a moment before responding. "You don't mean that," she finally said, gently.

Sarah took a deep breath and sighed it out. "No. Probably not."

They stood together in silence. The Doctor and Rohstan had disappeared over a ridge, but they both carried on looking in that direction, as if they were still in view.

"You could talk him out of it," Martha finally said, not looking at Sarah.

Sarah glanced over at her quickly. "You really don't know him very well yet, do you?"

"Well enough to know he'd listen to you. If you told him not to do it."

Sarah laughed. "What in the world would make you think that?"

"He loves you," Martha said, softly.

Sarah ducked her head and squeezed her arms to her chest, letting the words sink in for a long quiet moment before she answered. "That's why I can't even ask him not to do it, much less tell him." She looked at Martha. "He wants this so badly. He knows what it will cost him. And he's willing to make the sacrifice." She shook her head ruefully. "What kind of abuse of his love would it be..." She trailed off, then slid down the side of the TARDIS to sit on the ground, knees up, her arms wrapped tightly around them.

Martha slid down the side of the TARDIS to land cross-legged on the ground by Sarah, and they sat in silence for long moments, looking out across the alien landscape.

"Here he comes," Martha said a moment later. Sarah saw him too, a small figure in the distance but instantly recognizable, tall and razor thin, shock of dark hair bristling, hands deep in his trouser pockets, tails of his long coat swirling behind him as he strode across the dried mud at a great clip. "Wonder if he's got round Rohstan."

"I'd bet money on it," Sarah said. She watched him coming closer and couldn't help smiling. "Only question now is, how will he try to get around us? Or will he even bother?"

Martha looked over at her quickly. "Thought he didn't have to get round you anymore."

Sarah gave her a crooked grin. "He doesn't know that, does he?" Martha raised her eyebrows. "Well, just because I wouldn't feel right asking him not to do it for my sake doesn't mean I'm morally obliged to talk him into it, does it?"

"No, not at all," Martha agreed, smiling.

"Or that I have to like it."

"'Course not." Martha's smile grew broader.

"Or agree that it's a good thing for him to do."

"Oh, definitely not."

"Even if no one is forcing him, and he is doing it of his own free choice. Has he thought through all the repercussions and possible consequences? Is he going into this with full knowledge?"

Martha compressed her lips and looked thoughtful. "Dunno, do we?"

Sarah gave her a sharp look softened by a crooked smile. "Not yet. But I think we should make sure. Which means we can't let him sneak off and do it without telling us. Again."

Martha frowned. "You think he'd do that?"

"Did before, didn't he?"

"Well, yes. But he apologized for that."

"No he didn't." Martha's eyebrows shot up at the blunt contradiction. "He apologized for putting us through the aftermath of its not working. Remember?"

Martha's eyebrows furrowed. "Well." Sarah saw the wheels turning in her brown eyes. "Isn't that the same thing?"

Sarah shook her head. "Not in my books. Besides, even if he did apologize, that's not the same as saying he won't do it again, is it?"

Martha's expression did not clear up. "That goes without saying, doesn't it?"

"For humans, maybe." Sarah looked at the younger woman's doubt-filled face. "Martha, he used to tell me that the Time Lords were the most devious species in the universe." Her lips curled in a rueful smile. "I'm sure he doesn't say things like that anymore."

Martha shook her head. "He doesn't talk about them at all. Told me that bit about Gallifrey the once. But nothing about the Time Lords."

"Well. S'pose Time Lords don't speak ill of the dead any more than humans do. Not surprising. But when they were alive...." She turned to check his progress toward them, knowing what sharp ears he had and not wanting him to overhear this conversation. "Let's just say that they're the reason he stole a TARDIS and ran off and became the renegade Time Lord that he was back then."

"He _stole _the TARDIS?" Martha's eyes bugged out.

"He says borrowed," Sarah said with a grin. Then she sobered as she remembered. "Guess he doesn't need to worry about returning it now."

"But, what you said, about Time Lords."

"You mean what he said about them?"

"Yeah, alright. What he said. That they're...were....devious. He's not like that."

Sarah turned to look at him again, a crooked smile on her face. "Oh, Martha. He may be the least devious Time Lord ever, but he still is a Time Lord. And in a good cause, he can be as devious as the best of them." She looked back at Martha. "And he thinks this is a good cause."

They waited in silence as he covered the last few hundred yards. As he approached, they saw that he was grinning from ear to ear.

"What a delightful sight to come back to," he said as he drew up in front of the TARDIS and beamed down at them. "My TARDIS and my two lovely companions." He reached a hand down to each of them and practically popped them to their feet.

"Yes, and we know which you love the best," Sarah said, dusting down the seat of her trousers. She saw Martha's startled look out of the corner of her eye, but she just grinned and gave the TARDIS an affectionate pat.

The Doctor's already broad grin broadened. He took a step forward and stroked the side of his time ship. "I do feel a bit at loose ends when I don't have access to her," he admitted. Then he looked down at Sarah, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in to him. "C'mon then. Let's get you home." He gathered Martha up in the same way with his other arm and they entered the TARDIS--with a bit of a squeeze--three abreast.

"Home home?" Sarah asked as they reached the top of the ramp.

The Doctor unwrapped his arms from around their shoulders and turned to the console. "Yup!" he said. "Home home. London, England, Earth. Bannerman Road. Home and hearth and..." He looked up at her with a grin. "Harry." His eyes turned back to the console and he purposefully twirled a dial, flipped a switch and pulled a lever half-way down. "You said you wanted to get back three hours after we left, right?"

Sarah threw Martha a look that was half desperation and half "didn't I say it?" "Erm. Doctor," she said hesitantly.

"Yes?" he responded, his focus never leaving the console.

"Only... It's just...I...." He finally looked up, eyebrows raised, as she stammered to a halt. She gathered her thoughts and tried again. "I thought maybe you meant home as in the research center."

He grinned. "It was starting to feel a bit like home from home, wasn't it? But why would you want to go back there?"

"Ah," Sarah said, biting her lip and cudgeling her brain for a plausible answer.

"Our clothes," Martha interjected. "They're back there."

"Yes!" Sarah gave her a look of intense gratitude. "The ones the hens made for us. It would be rude to go off and leave them behind, wouldn't it? When they made them specially for us? Oh, and our beautiful gfts. Your stethoscope, Martha."

"And your notebook," Martha agreed. "I know you don't want to leave that behind."

"Mercy, no." Sarah rolled her eyes dramatically. "I love that notebook. And all my notes from our trip are in it now."

"Oh." The Doctor looked from Sarah to Martha and back to Sarah. "Well. I can bring it to you next time I visit. The clothes too, if you like."

Sarah's heart dropped a few inches. "So, you _are _coming back here after dropping me off?" she asked slowly, again darting a glance at Martha.

The Doctor's eyes widened. "Oh. Ah. Erm. Well. Of course I will. Some day. Rohstan's become a good friend. I'm sure I'll be visiting him off and on. Checking on how the research is going. Helping out if I can. Just...consulting, of course. I'll make sure to stop off here before I come visit you next time."

Sarah nodded, running the tip of her tongue over her upper lip. "And Martha?"

The Doctor looked at Martha. "What about her?"

Sarah stuck out her bottom lip and raised her eyebrows. "Oh. Just wondering if you were going to drop her off at home too. Before you come back."

Martha stood very still as the Doctor continued to stare at her. "Hadn't planned to. Unless she wants me to, of course." Martha shook her head firmly and he continued to stare at her, his eyes growing thoughtful. "Might not be a bad idea, actually. You haven't seen your family in awhile, Martha. Maybe I should take you home for a visit. Come back for you, of course. Once you've had a chance to catch up with your folks."

Sarah flinched and ducked her head at the dagger-filled look Martha gave her. She threw her an apologetic glance, then closed her eyes for a second. Time to draw the line in the sand, she thought, gathering her nerve and her wits and desperately searching for the best way to do it.

"Maybe this would be a good time to finish that discussion we were having last night," she finally said softly. "Before you take either of us anywhere."


	16. Chapter 16

He looked back at the console and adjusted a dial. "That discussion _is_ finished."

"Is it?" Sarah asked. "Why?"

"Because it made you cry." His eyes didn't leave the control panel. His voice was low, his brown eyes shadowed.

"It bothers you if I cry?"

He shot her a quick look, then turned back to the console. "What do you think?"

"Well. Never used to." He looked up at her then, startled, his mouth opening, but no words coming out. "Remember me sobbing over you when Sutekh's robot had strangled you and I thought you were dead? You just bopped me on the head and told me to stop soaking your shirt."

His eyebrows furrowed and his mouth opened wider. "I nev..." He stopped mid-word as his eyes grew thoughtful. After a moment, he raised a hand and scratched the back of his neck. "Blimey, I did, didn't I." He shook his head in disbelief. "How did you ever put up with me in those days?"

Sarah ducked her head to hide a grin. "I have no idea."

"Well. I'm sorry."

Sarah laughed softly. "Bit late."

She saw a glint of amusement come into his eyes and felt the knot in her stomach loosen a little. "I could take you back to there and then and apologize on the spot."

"Not necessary," she said, smiling. Then she grew serious. "But apparently I owe you an apology. For crying last night. I'm sorry. Didn't mean to upset you." She gave him a crooked grin. "Seems to be my day for apologies."

The Doctor glanced at Martha, who shrugged her shoulders.

"Oh, Martha's due for one too," Sarah said, giving the younger woman another apologetic look. "But it's your friend Rohstan who already got one."

The Doctor finally did a full-body turn away from the controls at that. He folded his arms and leaned back against the console, giving her his full attention. "For what?"

"Thinking he was an evil scientist who was forcing you to cooperate with his experiments by threatening us."

His eyebrows lifted and his face relaxed into a smile. "You finally got that sorted, eh?"

She compressed her lips and nodded.

"What convinced you?"

"Pictures of his grandchicks," she said in a small voice. His eyebrows went up a bit more and his smile grew. "Well. That was the capper. It was mostly watching the two of you together."

The Doctor looked down at her for a moment. "Good," he finally said. "I'm glad."

"So." Sarah tried again to steer him toward that line in the sand. "If I promise not to cry again. Can we reopen last night's discussion?"

He laughed softly. "Is that a promise you're sure you can keep?"

"I think so," she said. "As long as we don't talk about the sorts of things we talked about last night."

"What else is there you want to talk about then?"

She searched his face, looking for any flicker of expression that might confirm her suspicions, but saw nothing there except open, honest curiosity. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, she thought. If I'm wrong, I'll just have one more apology to make today.

"You trying it again."

His eyebrows went up, but his face stayed blandly innocent. "It?" he asked.

"The experiment."

He nodded slightly, as if to indicate he understood now. "I haven't said anything about trying it again."

"I've noticed that," she said wryly and earned herself a pointed look. She took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "But if you thought it was a good idea the first time--and I know you did, or you wouldn't have done it--and you think you know why it didn't work..." She stopped, letting him fill in the blank.

"You make a good argument for a second attempt," he said.

"Sarah," Martha said in a "this isn't going well" tone.

Sarah glanced over at her, then back at the Doctor. "Just the one you'd make. If you weren't trying to avoid telling us. Because you think we'd try to talk you out of it."

He scanned her face intently, his face sober. "Would you?"

She returned his gaze for a moment, then dropped her eyes. "I'd like to." She looked back up at his face with a smile. "I like this you." He looked down, but she saw the crooked smile on his face anyway. "More importantly, though," she continued. "I hate the thought of you throwing away so much of your life."

He didn't look up as he answered. "If someone asked me to invest ten quid in a project, and I gave it to him, and got back a hundred, would I have thrown my ten quid away?" He glanced up at her expectantly.

She was a bit baffled by his answer, and it must have shown, because he gave her a small smile and continued. "If this research pans out, it won't just make it possible for Rohstan's people and yours to regenerate. It should work for Time Lords, too." A tired flicker of pain showed in his eyes for a brief moment. "A Time Lord," he corrected himself. His deep brown eyes locked onto hers with a nearly hypnotic intensity. "He could give me back my life, Sarah Jane," he said fervently. "I'm on my tenth body already and I'm only nine hundred years old. Do you understand what that means?"

Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried very hard to understand. "I know you've had a lot of premature regenerations."

He nodded. "Each of my bodies should last eight hundred to a thousand earth years. That means a Time Lord's life expectancy is...was...could easily be thirteen thousand years." He raised one eyebrow. "And that's just an average." He took a deep breath. "At the rate I'm going, I won't get to live out a tenth of that."

"And you think this research could..." She stopped as the full realization sunk in.

He nodded. "I do. It's very promising. And since I naturally regenerate, it will probably be easier to renew my regeneration cycle than to engineer one for species that don't have one inherently." He gave her a small smile and continued in a light tone. "So I'll most likely be the first one to benefit from the research."

Sarah took a deep breath and nodded, thinking it through. "Okay. That answers that objection. I have to trust you on how promising it is, but if you're right..."

He smiled crookedly. "It's research. There are no guarantees. I know that. But without research, there are no advances. No breakthroughs." He searched her face as if hoping to find the answers there. "It's not going to happen randomly."

Sarah nodded some more. "Okay," she said again. "Next objection. You're not well."

He straightened his shoulders and tipped his head from side to side, his full bottom lip pooched out. "Not so bad."

"Not fully recovered from the first attempt."

He looked away, and sighed. "No," he reluctantly agreed. "Not entirely."

"Then wait. You shouldn't be making a decision like this when you're not a hundred percent. Give yourself more time to heal before you even think about trying it again."

His face grew grim, and he closed his eyes and shook his head. "I'm halfway there already," he said. He opened his eyes and gave her a direct look. "If I wait, it will just be that much harder."

Well, she thought. At least it's out in the open now. He's not denying it. She felt tears threatening, but fought them back with deep breaths. "Okay," she finally said tightly. "Understood. Heard and acknowledged." She swallowed hard. She didn't dare look at him. "Just one more. You shouldn't go through this alone." She glanced at him and quickly away, studying her hands, the floor, the console, wherever her eyes lit. "Let us be there with you."

The hum of the TARDIS grew loud in the silence that followed. She knew if she looked at him she'd break her promise about crying, and she'd be damned if she did that. So she just waited.

When he finally answered, his voice was soft and husky. "No. I don't want you to see that."

"I've seen you regenerate. Wasn't so bad," she said, striving for an even tone, still not looking at him.

"You didn't see what led up to it," he continued in that same soft voice. "Those weeks I was lost in the void." He paused. She heard him take a deep breath, then continue. "I just... I don't..." She finally risked a glance in his direction and saw him shaking his head. "I never want you to remember me like that."

More deep breaths. Thoughts of sunny days, birds singing, blue skies. Anything but this conversation. "Understood," she finally was able to say.

The TARDIS hum grew loud again. She risked a glance at Martha, who just shook her head sadly in response.

"So. Home?"

His voice drew her eyes back to him. He stood by the console, hands poised over the controls, his brown eyes questioning.

"No." Her reply was firm. The tears had been beaten back--at least for now. "I spent thirty years wondering if you were dead or alive. I'm not going through that again." He ducked his head, looked away. "If there's even the smallest chance that you won't survive this..." Her voice softened, but her eyes were still dry. "I'd rather know." She thought about that for a second, then corrected herself. "I need to know."

"Martha?" he asked, looking at his newest companion. "Home?"

She shook her head. "I'm with Sarah."

A muscle jumped in his lean jaw as he turned back to the console, flipped a switch and set the central column in motion. The TARDIS juddered and lurched as he manipulated the controls silently, not looking at either of them, his full attention on his time ship. Sarah grabbed the railing and saw Martha do the same to keep from being thrown to the deck. She hung on like grim death until the TARDIS wheezed, groaned, and then quieted.

Even after the ship had apparently landed, he continued to work with the controls for another few minutes.

"Sarah. Martha. Come here." He looked up at them, his eyes serious. "I need to show you something." They let go of the railing and stepped over to his side. "I've preset the TARDIS to take you home. In case I can't." Sarah bit her lip at that, but didn't comment. "I don't want to leave you two stranded if it comes to that. Not that it will," he added quickly, giving them both a wide-eyed, eyebrows up look. "But. Just in case. All you have to do is push this button," he said, indicating the button in question. "And turn this dial. Then pull this lever down." He showed them both the components he meant, then stood back. "Got it?" They nodded. "Martha, I can only preset her for one destination. She likes Sarah's living room," he said, one corner of his mouth quirking up. "And it's easier to send her someplace she knows and likes on a preset. So, if it came to that--and it won't," he said, again emphasizing his point with his eyebrows. "You'd have to live through a year of your life all over again. Shouldn't be a problem as long as you avoid yourself. Might want to stay with Sarah," he suggested, somewhat hesitantly.

"Of course," Sarah said, turning to the younger woman. "As long as you like."

He nodded gratefully. "Just wait until after you leave with me, after the Royal Hope is back. Then you can pick up your life again where you left off." He turned away from the console, facing them. "So. Do you want to wait in the TARDIS, or in our quarters?"

"Wait for what?" Martha asked, confused.

"Me," he answered simply.

Sarah's eyebrows furrowed. "Where are we?"

"Back at the research center. In the courtyard. Rohstan should be here in a bit. I'll go get everything set up in the lab so we can go ahead with it as soon as he's back."

"But..." Sarah threw a frazzled glance at Martha, then looked back at the Doctor. "So soon? Why the rush? Does it have to be done now?"

The Doctor nodded. "It took a lot to convince Rohstan to do it again. I don't want to give him time to change his mind." Sarah felt her heart sink. The Doctor bit his lip before continuing. "And if I wait. I might lose my nerve."


	17. Chapter 17

"If I wait. I might lose my nerve." His words echoed through Sarah's heart like a tocsin and, for the second time that day, she experienced a moment of extreme clarity. She'd been so wrapped up, so invested in her belief that he couldn't possibly be doing this willingly. Of course she hadn't given any thought to how hard a choice it was that he was making. She didn't think he had a choice. Or rather, she'd thought that his only choice was whether to sacrifice himself to protect them, which, she knew, wouldn't have been a choice at all for him.

"You? Lose your nerve?" she heard Martha say. She turned toward the younger woman and saw her looking at the Doctor with disbelief and something just short of awe in her big brown eyes. "When you've faced down Carrionites and Daleks and big scorpion-thingy creatures and living suns and God knows what all else?"

He gave her a small smile and shook his head. "That doesn't take nerve." His eyes went out of focus for a moment. "More like desperation. And tons of adrenalin." He looked up at Martha again, not smiling this time. "It doesn't take nerve if you don't have a choice."

Sarah pressed a hand to her mouth. _And all I've done since we got here was make that hard choice even harder for him,_ she thought, her heart twisting with regret and shame.

He glanced over at her sharply, stared at her for a moment, then looked down. _Did I say that out loud?_ she asked herself, quickly rewinding her memories to double check. No, she hadn't said it out loud. But....

"Did you hear that?" she asked him.

"Didn't mean to," he mumbled, looking at his feet. "Sorry."

She sighed. "I really am going to have to learn to think more quietly around you," she said seriously. He glanced up at her, looking for all the world like the little boy who'd been caught with his hand in the biscuit tin, and she couldn't help giving a rueful chuckle.

He laughed softly then and shook his head. "Not your fault. It's just...when strong emotions are involved...you sort of broadcast your thoughts." He furrowed his eyebrows and looked at her closely, his head tilted. "You may have some latent telepathic ability that's developed over the years."

She smiled crookedly at that. "Or maybe it's just you."

"Maybe." He returned the smile. "I'll have to work harder at blocking you out."

She shook her head. "Don't do that. Don't ever do that."

He looked at her soberly for a moment. "Okay." Then he smiled again. "Good to have you back on my side."

"I'm always on your side," she said. "Even when I have so totally got the wrong end of the stick that I don't know where your side is. I'm still on it."

He reached out a long arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling her to him in a quick embrace. "Right, then. _Allons-y_." It came out with much less than his usual enthusiasm. He dropped his arm from her shoulders and led the way down the TARDIS ramp and out into the courtyard.

They walked together in silence back to their quarters. When they arrived at the apartment, Sarah and Martha went in, then turned to see him standing in the open doorway, fists jammed into his pockets, face set in grim determination. "I'll just be going on then," he said, in answer to their questioning looks. "To the lab."

Sarah nodded, working hard at keeping her thoughts to herself. He looked at her, then turned to Martha.

"Martha," he said. "It's been fun." His face relaxed into a small smile. "And a bit terrifying at times." Martha laughed in reluctant agreement. "I hope you'll want to go on travelling with me. After. But..." She started to say something but he held up a hand to shush her. "Let me say this. If you don't like the new me. For whatever reason. Too tall. Too short. Too fat, too thin." He stopped, wrinkled his nose and looked down at himself. "Although I can't imagine being thinner." He looked back up at her. "All you have to say is, 'That's it, I'm done, take me home.' I'll understand. No explanations necessary." He smiled. "On Gallifrey, you could get a no-fault divorce up to a year after a partner's first regeneration."

Sarah laughed. "It would give new meaning to 'he's not the man I married.'"

The Doctor nodded. "Exactly. So. Martha. You get the same option."

Martha shook her head solemnly. "I won't need it."

He searched her face, then gave a soft sigh. "Thank you for that. But I won't hold you to it. If the new body is...." He thought a moment. "Cross-eyed and has a wart on its nose..." Martha looked up at him, startled, and he grinned. "You might change your mind. And that'll be fine." He reached out, wrapped both arms around her, and pulled her to him in a tight hug, resting his cheek on top of her head and closing his eyes. "Thank you, Martha Jones. For everything," he said softly.

After a long moment, he released her and stepped back, giving her a bright smile. Then he turned to face Sarah, pulling himself up to his full height and straightening his shoulders. "You," he said, giving her a direct look. "Don't get that option."

Despite the sinking feeling in her stomach, a small smile crept across her face. "Don't need it. Although..." She frowned at him. "Cross your eyes."

His eyebrows went up and she had to repeat herself, more firmly the second time. "Cross your eyes." With a laugh he did and she stepped up to him and gently squeezed the end of his nose, trying to get a bit of skin to bulge out and simulate the threatened wart. She tipped her head and studied his face, considering the effect. "Well. Might take a bit of getting used to," she said, letting go of his nose.

He uncrossed his eyes and looked down at her with an amused and grateful smile. "I'll try not to let it happen."

"Thought you said you didn't have any choice in the matter."

He shrugged. "Never have had. But then, I've never really tried." His eyes lost focus. "Traumatic regenerations don't leave you much time or thought for such things."

"Well. Since this one is planned." She looked up at him, very earnestly. "See if you can arrange to look at least a bit nearer my age." His eyebrows shot up again and she wrinkled her nose at him. "To stop people thinking I'm your mum."

He laughed then, a real laugh, a laugh that broke the tension and left him looking much more relaxed and at ease. "I'll see what I can do," he said with a warm smile. He reached out for her then and she braced herself for what she thought was going to be her good-bye hug. But his arms didn't wrap around her. Instead, he took her hands, lifted them, and placed them, palms down, flat on his chest, one above each heart. His smile faded as he reached out again, this time putting his right hand flat on her chest, over her heart. "You are my third heart, Sarah Jane," he said softly, as he placed his left hand on top of his right.

There were no words for what happened next. No words. She tried, later, to come up with some, to use words, her trusty old friends, to freeze the experience, to etch it into her memory so she wouldn't lose even one moment of it, one level of intensity. But it was no good. It was beyond words. It wasn't that their hearts merged, melded, became one, although they did. It was more. It wasn't that she saw into his soul in a way she had never done before, had never even dreamed was possible. But she did. It wasn't that she knew her soul was laid bare to him, either, although it was, and that was right, that was fine, that was exactly as it should be. It _was_ that. All that. But it was more. And the words to describe it, if they existed, had long ago been lost from human language. Or maybe had yet to be coined.

She gasped as he raised his hands from her chest, an hour or a minute later, she had no way of knowing. He lifted her hands off his chest, kissing each palm lightly, his eyes never leaving hers. "See you soon," he said softly, huskily, then turned and was gone, leaving her staring after him, her heart briefly beating in a curious triple cadence before settling down to its normal human rhythm.

"What was that, some sort of Time Lord greeting, like 'live long and prosper'?" Martha asked as she closed the door and turned to face Sarah, giving her the Vulcan hand gesture that went with the saying.

Sarah wasn't at all ready to discuss what had just happened. "Erm. S'pose it must be."

"You looked a bit stunned."

"I feel a bit stunned." She stepped over to the table and sank onto one of the chairs. "Been quite a day."

Martha nodded and leaned back against the door. "So. What do we do now?"

Sarah looked around, reluctantly coming back to reality. "Pack?"

"That'll take all of two minutes."

Sarah nodded. "You hungry?" Martha shook her head. "Nor I."

"Could use a cup of tea."

"Oh, me too. Should have brought some from the TARDIS."

"Didn't think of it." Martha brightened. "I could go get some. I have a key." She held up her newly-acquired TARDIS key proudly to show Sarah.

"That would be wonderful, Martha, thank you," Sarah said gratefully.

"Be right back," Martha said as she nipped out the door, leaving Sarah alone with her thoughts in the silent room.

***

You can only drink so many cups of tea. Sarah supposed millions of people had learned this before, sitting in hospital waiting rooms, worrying about someone they loved. And that is exactly what it felt like, sitting in their apartment, the two of them off and on starting a conversation, only to have it stumble to a halt in short order as their thoughts turned again to the Doctor.

Pacing might help. She tried it. Then added running her fingers through her hair distractedly. No use. Time still dragged.

"I suppose you're used to this sort of thing," she said to Martha.

"What, waiting for a Time Lord to regenerate?"

"Well, no. I was thinking more along the lines of spending time in a hospital waiting room." She sat down again, wrapped her arms around her chest, and blew out a frustrated breath. "That's what it feels like."

"Does," Martha agreed. "And no. You never get used to it."

They sat in silence again until a sound from the corridor made them both look up. The sound of footsteps. Hurried footsteps. They each saw hope flare in the other's eyes, until they both realized they weren't hearing Time Lord footsteps. There was a slight but distinctive difference in the sound made by the bare, taloned feet of the local beings. They sighed in unison.

But the footsteps stopped at their door. Sarah was on her feet and opening it before whoever it was had a chance to buzz.

"Oh God," she sighed. Rohstan stood in the doorway, the Doctor's limp form in his arms. "Not again."

"Hurry. Tend to him," Rohstan said as he carried the Doctor quickly into the bedroom and stretched him out on the bed.

Martha immediately started loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. Sarah unlaced his trainers and slipped them off his feet.

"What happened?" she asked Rohstan, desperation and fear making her voice harsh.

Rohstan just stared at her, his eyes tortured, his crest rising and falling at speed.

"For God's sake, talk to us, Rohstan," Sarah said. "He's unconscious. Isn't that the same as not in the room?"

Rohstan wrung his hands and shook his head. "He said not to stop. No matter what. To hold faith. But he did not change. I continued well beyond the point where I halted the process last time. And still he did not change."

Martha was listening to his hearts and the look on her face had Sarah's heart in her throat.

"Be hasty. Apply the salve," Rohstan said.

Sarah looked up at him quickly. "What salve?"

"The black salve. The healing salve." Sarah looked at Martha blankly, then they both gave Rohstan the same uncomprehending look. He turned and strode rapidly out of the room, coming back in ten seconds with a large white tub. He popped the top off. "Some has been used."

Sarah recognized it now. "The Doctor used that on some scratches on my hand. We didn't use any on him."

Rohstan's crest flared. "Why?" He turned to Martha. "You are a medical hen. Why did you not use the salve?"

Martha's eyes flashed. "He's an alien. We're not going to use a medication on him that we don't know anything about. It could kill him."

He bobbed his head toward Sarah. "He used it on you."

"We're not the same species as him," Sarah pointed out. "Some medications we take on a daily basis are deadly to him."

Rohstan huffed out a breath impatiently. "I am most familiar with his biochemistry and physiology. The salve will not harm him. Use it." He pushed the tub peremptorily toward Sarah, leaving her very little choice but to take it.

She stared down into the tub, then looked up at Martha, eyebrows furrowed. "Martha?"

"We need to do something. I don't know if he can pull out of it on his own this time."

"Do you actually mean that he regained his health as quickly as he did after the last time without using the salve?" Rohstan asked, clearly incredulous.

"That's exactly what we mean," Martha said.

Rohstan shook his head. "Truly he is a remarkable being." He looked down at the Doctor.

Sarah looked at the Doctor too, just in time to see a puff of shimmering golden air come out of his open mouth. "What's that?"

Martha looked quickly and saw it too. "I don't know."

"Looks like what I saw before. But under his skin that time."

Rohstan strode quickly to the head of the bed, pulling a small glass phial out of his pocket. He held it up to the Doctor's lips and pushed a button. Sarah heard a tiny whirring noise and the golden glow was sucked into the phial, where it hung, looking like distilled essence of lightning bug. Rohstan held it up and peered at it, then shoved it back into his pocket. "You will need more salve. I will fetch it. Begin with what you have." He turned and started to leave the room.

"Wait," Sarah called, and he turned around to face her. She looked down at the tub of salve, then at the Doctor, then again at Rohstan. "Where do we put it? He's not injured anywhere in particular."

"He is injured everywhere. Put it everywhere." He turned and hurried out of the room.

Sarah felt as if she were trapped in a recurring nightmare as she turned, once again, to help Martha get the Doctor out of his clothes. This time, though, instead of changing him into his pyjamas, they each dipped up a handful of the black salve. For one last moment, they stared at each other, then by unspoken agreement, started smearing it on him. Sarah began on his face, carefully avoiding his eyes and lips, and was working her way down his neck when Rohstan came back, carrying two more large tubs.

"Everywhere," he said, nodding toward the Doctor's face.

"His eyes, too?" Sarah said, wrinkling her brow in concern.

"And his mouth."

Sarah glanced at Martha, who was working on covering the Doctor's right arm with the black, tarry salve, then turned back to the Doctor and gently rubbed salve over the delicate tissue of his eyelids. She dipped up a bit more and smeared it over his lips. Then she looked at Rohstan for approval.

"Continue."

She went back to working her way down his neck, but Rohstan interrupted. "Continue applying it to his mouth."

"I did," she said, looking at the Doctor's blackened face and lips.

"I did not say his mouth edges only."

"You mean....inside his mouth?" Sarah asked, incredulous.

"Does he not have cells inside his mouth?"

"Well. Yes."

Rohstan just stared at her impatiently. She frowned down at the Doctor, then dipped up more salve with her right hand while she gently squeezed his hollow cheeks to open his mouth. She hesitated. "What if he swallows it?" she asked.

"Then it will assist his internal organs in healing," Rohstan replied.

Sarah blew out a breath, but then remembered how the Doctor had tasted the salve before putting it on her hand. _Guess it can't be too bad for him,_ she thought. With a resigned sigh, she stuck a finger in his mouth and smeared the black ointment all around the insides of his lips and cheeks. She dipped up another glob and ran her finger over his teeth and tongue and the roof of his mouth, turning them black and sticky. "The things I do for you, Doctor," she said, mostly to herself.

"Never went in for nursing, I take it," Martha commented, smearing salve over the Doctor's chest.

"No. Not really suited for it," Sarah said, wrinkling her nose.

"Inside his beak as well," Rohstan said, looking over her shoulder.

Sarah looked at the Doctor's nose. "You must be joking."

"Does he not have cells..."

"...inside his nose, yes he does," she finished unhappily. She reached into the salve tub and loaded her finger, then, scrunching up her eyes and looking the other way, smeared the inside of his nostrils with the black goo. She looked at Rohstan.

"His...head feathers. His fronds. Apply the salve to them."

"His hair?" Sarah protested. Then she held up her black gooey palms toward him to fend off his response. "Made of cells. I know." She scooped up a healthy portion of the salve, rubbed it in both hands, and climbed up on the bed to get a better angle on the Doctor's head. She smeared the black gunk into his sideburns and up over his head, then ran her fingers through his hair to work the salve in and make sure it reached his scalp.

"Help me roll him up on his side so we can do his back," Martha said.

Together, they positioned him on his side. Sarah worked on the back of his head, turning the rest of his brown head fronds black and sticky, then continued down his neck and shoulders, hiding the mole between his shoulder blades under black goo. Working quickly, at Rohstan's continued insistent urging, they soon found themselves finishing up by smearing the black stuff all over his feet.

Sarah separated the toes of his left foot and applied salve between them. She looked over at his other foot and saw Martha doing the same. "Right. I think we've run out of Doctor."

"Before we ran out of salve," Martha said, peering into the last tub. "That's good."

"S'pose we should get him into his pyjamas," Sarah said. "But I hate to think what a mess this stuff will make of them." They had covered him with one of the big towels after they'd applied the salve, mostly out of their human instinct to keep a sick or injured person warm, although he never seemed to feel the cold. Sarah's worried eyes travelled up the length of his body to his face. Then she grabbed Martha's arm. "Martha! Look!"

The young doctor whirled around at the shock in Sarah's voice. Together they stood and stared at the Doctor's face in wonder. The black salve had disappeared--every last trace of it. His hair looked freshly shampooed and conditioned. His skin had a rosy glow instead of the death-like pallor that it had had before they applied the salve.

Martha walked slowly around to the side of the bed and lifted the towel to peer under it at his chest. She looked up at Sarah, then turned the towel down to his waist so she could see for herself. No black tarry stuff. Just--healthy looking skin. Martha grabbed up her stethoscope and checked his hearts, an incredulous, relieved smile spreading itself across her face as she listened.

"Did I not advise you it would help?" Rohstan said.

"Why didn't you tell us this last time?" Sarah asked, thinking back to all they'd been through.

"I was not aware that you did not know," Rohstan said regretfully.

Just then, the Doctor's eyes flickered open, then stretched wide. "Whoo," he breathed. "That's more like it." He propped himself up on his elbows and pulled a few experimental faces. "Still a bit rough. But nothing like last time." He looked up at them then with a decidedly goofy grin. "Well? How do I look?"

Sarah smiled at him, a sunny smile that grew and grew until it turned into a relieved laugh. "Beautiful," she said, sincerely.

His eyes bugged out and he clapped his hands to his chest. Then he looked down at himself, and blew out a huff of breath. "Sarah Jane. That was not funny."

She gave him a puzzled look. "Wasn't meant to be." She took in the look on his face and the position of his hands. "Did you think...oh you didn't. You couldn't. Could you?"

He fixed her with a one-eyebrow-up stare. "I could. But it would be quite a shock after ten male bodies."

"You could have regenerated into a woman?" Martha said, her jaw dropping.

"Time Lady," he corrected her. "Yeah. Why?" He gave her a cheeky grin. "Don't think you'd like me as a woman?"

Martha blew out a puff of air. "You might have warned me."

"Well, didn't happen. So." He looked from one to the other expectantly. "How do I look? Seriously."

Sarah looked at him, then at Martha. "How do we break it to him, Martha?"

Martha shook her head. "Not sure. Could be a nasty shock."

He rolled his eyes, then frowned and smacked his lips experimentally a couple of times. He wrinkled his nose. "Funny taste in my mouth." Then his eyes clouded and he ran his tongue around his teeth. He looked up at them, his eyes wide, his eyebrows furrowed. "Same teeth. That's weird." He reached up to feel his left ear. "Same ear." He twisted his arm behind him and felt between his shoulder blades. His jaw dropped. "I'm still me. The same old me."


	18. Chapter 18

"That is my responsibility," Rohstan said, stepping forward and kneeling by the side of the bed. "I halted the disruption when you did not show signs of regenerating."

"Oh." The Doctor looked at the scientist. "Did you escalate?"

Rohstan nodded his head. "Yes. All the way to level twelve."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows and blew out a breath. "I passed out at...what? Level five this time?"

Rohstan nodded again. "Yes. Five point seven. I continued to escalate as you had directed. But..." The scientist bowed his head, his crest flattened along his skull and down the nape of his neck. "I failed you. I could not continue. I was so afraid you would not regenerate. That you would simply cease to live." He looked back up at the Doctor, his eyes great pools of distress. "I would not be responsible for terminating your existence. Such is not the purpose of my research. I endeavor to extend life, not extinguish it. Especially not the life of one such as you. A hero of our people. Unique in the universe. And although I have proved myself unworthy of the name--my friend."

_Thank you, Rohstan_, Sarah thought quietly. _Thank you. Thank you. Thank you._

"Oh," the Doctor said again, more softly this time. He looked at the scientist kneeling at his bedside and his mouth hung open for a moment. "Blimey, I've done it again," he finally said, his voice heavy with regret. "Rohstan, please. Stand up. It's not your fault."

"Whose then?" the scientist responded without looking up.

"Mine." The Doctor looked at his friend with deep sorrow in his brown eyes. "I get...carried away sometimes." He stopped, took a breath and started again. "I don't always realize what I'm asking of people. And I end up asking too much." He reached out and put a hand on Rohstan's shoulder. "I am so sorry."

Rohstan looked up at him, then climbed to his feet. "Thank you. Your forgiveness is healing to me."

"Good," the Doctor said. "Let's go to the lab and check out exactly what happened." He started to throw off the towel, then stopped and raised it just far enough to peer under it. He wrapped it tightly around his slim waist, one hand holding the ends together behind his back. "Erm. Clothes?"

"No way," Martha said. "Pyjamas, yes. Clothes, no. You're not going anywhere, mister."

"But I feel fine," he protested.

"You weren't fine an hour ago."

He frowned. "An hour?"

Sarah nodded. "That's about how long it's been since Rohstan carried you in, yes."

"But..." His frowned deepened. "If I didn't regenerate. Why don't I feel like...."

"Like you've been run over by a steamroller?"

He tipped his head from side to side, considering. "Yeah, that'd be one way of putting it."

Martha picked up the last tub of salve. "Because Rohstan told us about this stuff this time." She held it so he could look into it.

He dipped up a fingerful of it. "Oh. This stuff. I used it on Sarah." He sniffed it. "That's the funny taste in my mouth." He looked from one of them to the other. "Did you feed it to me?"

Sarah shook her head. "We rubbed it on you. But you absorbed it completely. So no wonder you can taste it."

He licked the blob on his finger, rolled it around in his mouth, and frowned. Then he licked the rest of it off his finger, and his eyes went a bit starey. He dipped into the tub again, came up with a generous fingerful, and licked it up like a kid at the icing bowl.

"Why are you eating it?" Sarah asked, equal parts mystified and horrified.

"Dunno," he said as he dipped up another glob with two fingers, stuck them both in his mouth, and sucked the salve off. "Tastes good," he said around his fingers.

"His body is craving the healing ingredients," Rohstan explained. "His internal organs were also damaged and need the salve. Some would have reached them from the absorption through his skin, but they need more."

The Doctor pulled a "who knew?" face, and scooped up another two fingersful of salve.

"Would you like a spoon?" Sarah asked, watching him.

He shook his head. "No, this works." He ate another big black glob, then his lip curled and he held his fingers away from his face. "That's enough," he said, looking a bit queasy.

"Your body really knows what it wants," Martha said admiringly.

"And how much," he agreed.

"Wish ours worked that way."

He laughed softly. "It is handy."

"Are you going to need to detox again?"

He sat up straighter, breathed in and looked thoughtful. "Not like last time. This stuff..." He looked at his black fingers. "...seems to have minimized the cell damage. But still. A good detox is never a bad idea. Should do it more often. And now that I've got ginger beer, I can do it the easy way."

"Want me to get some from the TARDIS?" Martha offered.

"No, I can get it," he said. "Well. If I can get dressed, I can."

Sarah quirked a smile at him, then went to the wardrobe and pulled out his dressing gown. "Let's start with this and see if you're as fine as you think you are." He slid to the edge of the bed, holding the towel around his waist, and she helped him into the robe. He tied the sash around his waist and gave her an amused "waiting for instructions, ma'am" look. "Stand up, then. See if you're steady on your feet."

He obeyed, taking a few steps across the room, then turning and walking back. "Everything seems to be in working order."

She shook her head. "Amazing."

"Rohstan, can I take some of this salve with me when I go?" the Doctor asked.

"Of course. How much would you like?"

"Oh," he said. "Couple of cases?"

"It is yours, my friend," Rohstan said, his eyes smiling. "I only wish I had advised your hens of its healing powers earlier."

"I'd say you were just in time," the Doctor said. "Now. May I get dressed, Doctor Jones? Ms. Smith?" He tipped his head toward them, eyebrows up.

*******

Rohstan headed off for the lab, with the Doctor promising to meet him there shortly, after he had detoxed. By the time they reached the TARDIS, his stride had shortened and slowed, and he had wrapped his arms around Sarah and Martha's shoulders, in friendship, yes, but also for a surreptitious bit of support. When they entered the galley, he sat down gratefully without first getting his ginger beer. Sarah and Martha exchanged concerned glances, and brought the drink to him. He told them where the other things he needed could be found, rather than getting them himself, and gave them a tired smile when they brought them to him.

"Why don't you two just step out for a second while I do this," he said, once everything was ready.

"You sure?" Sarah asked, glancing at Martha.

"It'll just take a second. Really. Nothing like last time."

"Well. Okay." Martha gave a small shrug of her shoulders, and led the way out of the galley.

"Wonder what he's up to in there," Sarah said.

Before Martha could answer, they heard a sharp cry from the galley. They turned back, and saw a grey cloud billowing out of the door. The Doctor emerged from the cloud a second later, waving a hand in front of his face.

"You okay?" Sarah asked.

He clicked his teeth. "Never better." Then he blew out a breath. "Needed that more than I thought."

"Now you need some zero room time," Sarah said.

He gave her a crooked smile. "Yeah. I do. That salve's good stuff, but I'm still a bit knackered. Just want to nip over to the lab first and see what happened."

Sarah felt her heart take a sudden dive south. "You're not..." she started to say.

"No. I'm not," he interrupted her firmly. He sighed. "Couldn't ask Rohstan to do it again, even if I were ready to bang my head against that particular brick wall for a third time." He looked down at her and furrowed his brows. "Why is it that half the universe would like nothing better than the chance to kill me, but when I want someone to do the deed...."

She laughed reluctantly. "Maybe you should have found a cyberman or a dalek to help you with the experiment."

His eyebrows went up. "They might have been a bit too thorough," he said. Then he shook his head and sighed again.

"This body's just not ready to give up yet," Sarah said softly, wrapping an arm around his waist and leaning in to him. She looked up at his face. "Got too much life in it. It wants to stick around until that spiky hair goes thin and gray and your freckles turn into age spots and you get all jowly."

He laughed. "Thanks for the visual," he said. "Maybe it's a good thing after all that I've only lived out one full lifetime."

"Come on, then, to the lab," Martha said brightly, taking up a position on the Doctor's other side.

"Erm. Maybe you should wait here. I don't think hens are allowed."

"We're not hens," Sarah said pointedly.

"Really?" The Doctor scratched the back of his neck, looking bewildered. "I could swear I remember you...baucking."

"Well, that was bauck then. This is now."

The Doctor and Martha groaned.

"Besides, I think we've got past that with Rohstan."

"Past what?" the Doctor asked. "Respecting his people's customs?"

"Well. If you want to put it that way. I'd be more inclined to say that he's starting to respect our customs." She looked up at the Doctor. "Two-way street?"

He just looked at her.

"Wouldn't it have been nice to know about the salve before?" she asked.

He raised his eyebrows and gave a reluctant nod. "You have a point."

"Then..._allons-y_."

Eyes popped when the three of them walked into the lab together, but Rohstan's colleagues were either too polite or too stunned to do anything about the presence of hens in their males-only workplace. The Doctor showed them the cellular disruptor and Sarah scowled at it.

"Why would they even have such a thing?"

"It is a medical device." Rohstan answered her words, not her tone. "Its proper use is to disrupt malignant cells and make them cease to live." He looked at Sarah and spoke directly to her. "Do your people experience this condition?"

"Yes. We call it cancer," Martha answered.

"Cancer. Yes. That is also what we call it," Rohstan said.

"Does it work?"

"Its efficacy is acceptable at ninety-five percent. We are continuing to research the technology to improve the success rate."

"Ninety-five percent?" Martha said, her eyes widening and her mouth falling open. She looked at the Doctor hopefully. "Be nice to have that technology on Earth."

He looked away, sighed, compressed his lips unhappily, then looked back at her. "Let me think about it. Do some checking."

Martha nodded gratefully.

"What's this?" the Doctor asked, picking up a small phial from the counter. He pulled his glasses out of his pocket, slipped them on, held the phial up and examined its golden glow with a frown of concentration.

"I wished to pose the identical question of you," Rohstan said.

"Me? Why?"

"You produced it." The Doctor's eyebrows shot up. "After I returned you to your quarters. This...essence...came out of your mouth."

"And you captured it!" Rohstan nodded. "Brilliant!" The Doctor pulled his glasses off to stare at Rohstan with pure joy. "This is regeneration energy!"

"And what's that when it's at home?" Martha asked.

"It's the energy that is released in a regeneration," he explained a bit impatiently, as if it should have been obvious. Martha pulled a "pardon-me-for-asking" face and received an understanding grin from Sarah. "Rohstan, if you can analyse this and duplicate it, you might have a way to stimulate regeneration without having to genetically engineer the ability into your people." He stared at Rohstan again, mouth slightly agape, wheels clicking away at a million miles an hour behind his brown eyes. "You might be able to beam this energy at the person, or the limb, or whatever...." His thoughts overtook his speech again and he fell silent.

"Will you stay and help me?"

"Ah. I'd love to. But...well, let me show you a few things to get you started." He put his glasses back on and he and Rohstan huddled over the instruments, the Doctor pointing from one display to another, twisting dials, making suggestions and then backpedalling and explaining the suggestions, correcting the suggestions, and elaborating on the suggestions, all just as fast as the words could tumble out of his mouth, until Sarah's head was swimming. Rohstan was taking it in, wide-eyed, bobbing his head occasionally, and she hoped he was getting more out of the Doctor's enthusiastic explanation than she was.

She hitched herself up on an empty stool and looked at Martha. "Maybe we should have stayed in the TARDIS after all."

Martha ducked her head and smiled. "Be careful what you ask for, yeah?"

"You'd think I'd learn that one eventually."

If the Doctor had been fighting fit, they might have been there for days. As it was, although his enthusiasm didn't wane, his energy started to flag after a bit. He straightened up, took off his glasses, folded his arms and leaned back against the counter, answering questions from Rohstan calmly, thoughtfully.

Rohstan looked up at the Doctor, his eyes shining. "Thank you, Doctor. You have given me an entirely new direction in which to take my research. This is most exciting."

The Doctor nodded, smiling happily. "I'll be back." He glanced up at Martha and Sarah and raised his eyebrows. "To see how you're progressing."

"You will always be welcome. And if you truly can travel through time in that remarkable box of yours, then come back when you are aged and ready to regenerate naturally and we can monitor the process and record it."

The Doctor laughed ruefully. "Doesn't often happen like that. But if it does, I'll come back. Count on it."

The three time travellers started back to the TARDIS after saying a temporary good-bye to Rohstan, who assured them he would bring the promised supply of black salve to them before they left and would then see them off in proper style.

"Doctor," Sarah said thoughtfully as they walked through the corridors of the research center.

"Mmm?"

"I was just thinking."

The Doctor nodded sagely, pooching out his lower lip. "Good. I encourage thinking. Especially in my companions." She clicked her tongue and looked up at him and received a cheeky grin in response. "What were you thinking, Sarah Jane?" he said, humouring her.

"Rohstan's done so much. For you. For us. And we haven't repaid him very well. Me thinking he was an evil scientist."

"Me asking way too much of him," the Doctor continued softly for her when she paused.

She left that alone, not wanting to agree but not able to honestly deny it either. "I'd like to do something for him. Something he'd really enjoy."

"Such as?"

"I'd like to invite him to visit Earth. I mean, he's a scientist and all. I'd think he'd appreciate the chance to visit another planet. And travel in the TARDIS."

The Doctor nodded his agreement. "So. Why didn't you ask him?"

"Well," she said. "You're driving. Figured it would be good to clear it with you first." She looked up at him. "Would you mind? You could stay for a few days while he visits, help me show him around, or you and Martha could go on travelling and just come back to give him a lift home."

The Doctor quirked her a grin. "You want to take him home to your time?" She nodded. "Are you sure that's wise? In your time, your people have only just begun to realize that they share the universe with other species. And so far, the ones they've encountered haven't been too friendly."

"Well," she said again. "We don't have to announce he's an alien." His eyebrows shot up. "You don't," she pointed out.

He laughed. "I think I blend in a little better than he would."

Sarah's brow wrinkled in thought. "We can tell people he's an actor. Working on a science fiction movie. Not needed on set all the time, but since it takes so long to get into the makeup and prosthetics, he can't take it off until the day's shoot is over. And...and...he's from the United States, first time in London, so wants to get in some sightseeing while he can during breaks."

"Brilliant," Martha laughed. "An actor and an American. That would be enough to explain anything bizarre he might do. Twice over."

"Besides," Sarah said, warming to the idea more and more. "We're talking about London. He could walk down the street, feathers, beak, kilt and all, and no one would blink an eye."

"Some parts," Martha agreed, nodding.

"Why don't we take him a few hundred years into your future? When Earth's become a bit more cosmopolitan?" the Doctor suggested.

"I wouldn't be able to show him around," Sarah said. "It would all be strange to me too." She grinned up at the Doctor. "Ah, c'mon. It'll be a lark."

He and Martha stopped walking and stared at her warily.

"What's the matter? Chicken?"

The other two groaned as if they'd been punched in the stomach.

"Or do you think I'm just being a silly goose?"

The groans took on a new tone of anguish.

"What if your idea lays an egg?" Martha asked, a twinkle in her eye.

The Doctor reeled back, while Sarah grinned. "Could be my swan song."

"Enough! Enough!" The Doctor bent over, arms wrapped around his chest, shaking his head. "Ask him! Anything to stop this torture! You'll have me crazy as a loon if you keep it up!"

"Sorry," Sarah Jane said contritely. Then she flashed him a cheeky grin. "Didn't mean to ruffle your feathers."

They continued on to the TARDIS, mining the English language for every bird, feather, egg and nest saying, idiom, and double-entendre they could come up with as they went, each doing his or her best to top the others. Sarah and Martha laughed and groaned and then laughed some more, until tears were streaming down their faces. The Doctor ran through his entire repertoire of groans and moans until he had to start repeating himself. They were all leaning against each other, weak with laughter, by the time they reached the Doctor's time ship.

Sarah wiped her eyes as she waited for the Doctor to open the doors, then climbed the ramp and collapsed on the bench seat, arms wrapped around her rib cage. "Oh, my sides hurt," she said. "I haven't laughed this much since..." She stopped, thought a moment, shook her head and continued. "I can't remember when."

"What, no bird-related expression for a long, long time?" Martha asked, sitting down next to her and drying her eyes.

Sarah shook her head. "I think I've run dry."

"About time," the Doctor said, rolling his eyes at her..

Martha gave Sarah an amused and quizzical look. "You've been holding that in the whole time we've been here, haven't you?"

"Yes!" Sarah cried, throwing her head back and laughing again, then clutching her sides and moaning. "I try to behave. I really do. But sometimes..."

The Doctor grinned at her, then turned to face the console and started manipulating the controls.

The two women sat without speaking for a minute, Sarah catching her breath and wiping her cheeks. When Martha broke the silence, her voice was serious. "You know. If you're going to invite Rohstan for a visit. It would be nice for him if he could bring a friend." The Doctor looked quickly over his shoulder at her. "If you don't mind," Martha said to him in response.

He thought a moment, then shook his head. "Two wouldn't be any more trouble than one. Might actually make it easier for you to pass them off as humans in fancy dress if there are two of them."

Martha smiled at him, then at Sarah, this time with just a hint of bashfulness. "It is nice to have someone of your own species along when you go travelling."

Sarah gave the younger woman a warm smile of agreement. "It is, isn't it?"

The Doctor turned back to the controls and went very still. Sarah and Martha both realized, just too late, what they'd said and what it meant to him.

"Oh, Doctor. I'm sorry," Martha said, her voice full of regret.

"For what?" he asked in a low voice, not turning around.

Martha gave Sarah an agonized look. "For being totally thoughtless."

He shrugged his shoulders. "It's okay." He turned slowly, folded his arms and leaned back against the console. "Other species can be good company, too," he said softly, smiling warmly at them both.

"Of course they can," Martha agreed wholeheartedly. "I just meant...well...it's nice to have someone to talk to. To compare notes with. Someone who knows what it's like, back home, and understands just what an amazing thing it is to travel with you."

His smile grew broader and the hurt faded from his eyes.

"And to have someone to discuss it with once you're back home," Sarah added. "Someone who won't think you're insane or a liar because they were there, too."

The Doctor nodded. "I get it. I said yes. Put a 'plus one' on the invitation."

Just then, there was a rap on the TARDIS doors. The Doctor was down the ramp in three long strides and opened the doors to see Rohstan standing to the rear of three workmen, each of whom was pushing a sack barrow piled with boxes. Their eyes bugged out when they saw the inside of the TARDIS, but Rohstan must have briefed them on what to expect as they proceeded up the ramp with their burdens instead of bolting in fear.

"Your salve, Doctor. Will this be enough?"

The Doctor laughed. "Should last me awhile, yeah. Thank you."

"Whe...whe...where would you like them?" asked the trembling workman who was first in line.

"Follow me. I'll show you." He threw a glance over his shoulder as he started leading them off the console room and into even more amazement. "Rohstan. Sarah and Martha have something they want to ask you."

Rohstan looked at the two women expectantly. "Rohstan," Sarah started, after glancing at Martha. "We were wondering if you'd like to visit our world."

His eyes grew wide. "Travel to your world? In this marvelous machine? With you and the Doctor?"

Martha nodded encouragingly. "Yeah. And you can bring a friend if you like."

Rohstan gasped, his beak hanging open. "Such an invitation. Such an opportunity. To travel to other worlds."

"Well," Sarah said, wrinkling her nose. "Just one other world actually. Ours." She thought a moment. "Although the way travel with the Doctor goes, you never know."

"I know exactly whom to invite," Rohstan said excitedly.

"That's a yes then?" Sarah asked, smiling.

Rohstan nodded. "Oh indeed it is an acceptance of your invitation. Thank you! Permit me to com my sister-son. He has always been much infatuated with the idea of alien life forms. He has been extremely exhilarated since your arrival." He started to pull out his mobile com unit, then stopped and hit himself on the forehead with his fist. "Oh! I will need to pack! How long will the visit last?"

"Well, that's another thing that's always a bit up in the air when you travel with the Doctor," Sarah said, sharing a grin with Martha. "I was thinking a long weekend--three or four days? And I'd say just pack the bare essentials and I'm sure that, between us and the Doctor, we'll be able to get you anything else you might need." Rohstan stared at her. She stared back. "It _is_ a civilized planet," she assured him.

"Of course it is, of course it is," Rohstan agreed hurriedly. "So, it is routine on your planet for aliens to visit?"

"Ah. Well. No, not exactly," Sarah said. "We may have to, erm, embellish the facts a bit while you're there."

Rohstan scowled and cocked his head at her. "Embellish the facts?"

"She means lie," Martha explained. Rohstan's eyebrows went up. "About who you are."

"Is this the custom on your world?"

Sarah glanced at Martha. "Sort of," she said. Then she thought it over for a moment. "Well, no." Then she thought it over for another moment, opened her mouth, and shut it again.

"Only when absolutely necessary," Martha said with a smile. "And never among friends. Right?" She looked at Sarah.

Sarah nodded decisively. "Well summarized, Doctor Jones."

The three workmen appeared, moving much faster than they had on the way in, and raced down the ramp, their empty sack barrows bouncing ahead or trailing behind them. "Thanks!" the Doctor called after them, but they didn't stop or even slow down to acknowledge his cheery cry and wave. He turned to Rohstan, then looked at Martha and Sarah. "Did you ask him?"

They answered him with big smiles. "In how much time do you wish to leave, Doctor?" Rohstan asked.

"Whenever you're ready. You and your plus one."

"I will go now and prepare. Thank you! Thank you!" He hurried down the ramp in the wake of his assistants.

The Doctor retired to the zero room to wait, leaving Sarah and Martha to greet their guests. They sat in the console room and chatted for a bit, then wandered down the ramp and out the doors to watch the planet set. As the stars appeared in the night sky, two figures also appeared, crossing the courtyard.

Sarah and Martha straightened up and smiled a welcome. Their smiles turned to astonished gapes when they saw who Rohstan's plus-one was.

"Galindor Flumenplock!" Sarah said, shocked but utterly delighted. "You are Rohstan's nephew?"

"His sister-son, Sarah Jane Smith!" Galindor said, giving her an enthusiastic hug, then quickly turning her loose and hugging Martha.

"Dor, what are you doing?" Rohstan said, his crest up, his eyes wide.

"Hugging, Nunks! Have they not instructed you in this of their customs?"

Rohstan rolled his eyes. "No, they have not. Nor do I think I will encourage them to do so. It appears...inappropriate."

"Not on our world," Martha said.

Sarah just shook her head, looking from uncle to nephew. "I never would have guessed you two were related," she said quietly, mostly to herself but loud enough for Rohstan to hear.

"And why is that?"

"Well," she said, suddenly wondering if she would be insulting either of them by saying what she was thinking. "His plumage. It's so amazingly colorful and lush."

Rohstan leaned in close to her and spoke softly in her ear. "Extensions. Color-enhanced." Sarah's jaw dropped and she fought not to laugh. "It is nearly mandatory for anyone who wishes to become a popular success on the visi-screen. Even news readers."

"Nunky, you are not giving away my secrets, are you?" Galindor called.

"Remarkably acute hearing as well," Rohstan whispered.

"Oh, you're going to fit right in on Earth," Sarah said, giving in to the urge to laugh, then wincing and pressing her hands to her sides as her sore ribs made her regret it.

They led their guests up the ramp, where they found the Doctor waiting by the console.

"TARDIS doubles as an alarm clock?" Sarah asked, and he grinned in response.

"Everyone ready? Earth, London, Sarah Jane's house, here we come!" With a frenetic flurry of motion, he set the TARDIS into flight. Their guests' eyes widened as the ship wheezed and groaned, then juddered and tilted, but Martha and Sarah just grabbed hold of the railing and encouraged the first-time flyers to do the same.

In very short order, the TARDIS wheezed again and then came to a stop. The Doctor checked the controls. "You wanted to get back when Sarah?" he asked.

"Oh. Whenever." He shot her a piercing glance. "A reasonable time after I left." One eyebrow arched to add impact to the piercing glance. "Three-hours-ish. Give or take. Not a problem if it's more."

His lips compressed and one corner of his mouth quirked down. "That's what I thought you said. Well. Glad it's not a problem if it's more."

"How much more?" Sarah asked, her brows drawing together in a worried frown.

The Doctor checked the exterior monitor and grinned. He swivelled it around so she could see. "That much more."

Sarah looked in the monitor and saw Harry, lounging on her couch, staring at the TARDIS, drumming his fingers on the couch's arm and nodding smugly.

"Oh, that's an I-told-you-so face," Martha said as she looked over Sarah's shoulder at the screen. "That Harry?"

"Mm hm," Sarah confirmed. "Right on both counts." She stared at the screen for a moment, then a wicked grin stretched itself across her face. "Galindor. Would you do something for me?"

"But of course, Sarah Jane Smith! You have only to ask."

"OK, here's what I want." She gave the flamboyant alien his line. "Got it?" He said it back to her. "Good. Now. It needs a hand gesture." She demonstrated, and he ran the line again with the gesture.

"Oh, you are mean," Martha said, giggling. "Are you sure Harry's heart can take it? He's a doll, but he's..." She put a hand over her mouth, but the laughter burst through her fingers. "...no spring chicken."

Sarah rolled her eyes at Martha and laughed. "Harry's heart is sound as a bell. And don't forget he's travelled with the Doctor too." She looked at Galindor. "Ready?"

He nodded, then headed down the ramp and opened the door. The others all watched on the monitor screen as Harry's eyes bulged and his jaw dropped.

"Greetings, earthling!" Galindor said, his flaming multicolor crest at full height and spread as wide as it could go. He held up one taloned hand, palm forward, exactly as Sarah had shown him. "I come in peace. Take me to your leader!"

THE END

(Of part 1 that is. Stay tuned for Part 2, "Galindor and Rohstan Do London", coming soon to a fanfiction board near you!)


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